


All The Loveless Land

by pastmydancingdays



Series: All The Loveless Land [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Babies, F/M, First Time, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nero Doesn't Exist, Parental Spirk, T'hy'la, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 225,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastmydancingdays/pseuds/pastmydancingdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the virus came, sweeping away all he had ever known, Jim Kirk looked to the stars. In 2258, those on Terra flee hopelessly from a sickness that sweeps the world, transforming those infected into something new and terrifying. It soon becomes clear that there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and with the Federation abandoning them to their fate, the remnants of Starfleet are the only true hope. Jim had clawed his way out of hell before, but he hadn’t expected it to follow him back home. Gathering a young, inexperienced crew around him, Spock and Bones at his side, Jim’s mission is clear: to keep his people alive.</p>
<p>The Enterprise would take flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Night And Light

Stardate 2261.66. 0930 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

Captain James Tiberius Kirk sits before me, arms folded tight against his chest. Although young, he wears a battle-weary expression, and his boyish good looks are marred only slightly by a scar spanning his right cheek. Like most survivors, he is quite hostile – some might say deservedly so – and insists that various members of his crew be allowed to remain outside during this interview, in case of ‘trouble’. Before the virus outbreak, he was on the Command track at Starfleet Academy, located in San Francisco, USA, Earth, hoping to follow in the footsteps of his late father George as a Starship Captain. When I ask him how he thinks the virus started, he huffs out a sharp breath through his nose and shrugs, frowning.

JK: Look, nobody knows how it started. There were rumours, of course, going from person to person, and new ones came with the nomads. But no one actually _knows._ Do you?

_[I am not authorised to answer this question. There is a moment of silence.]_

We just want to know your experience, Mr. Kirk, in whatever way you wish to tell of it.

JK: _[muttering]_ Nice evasion there. _[louder]_ It’s just Kirk, or Jim, okay? Can’t hold on to that formality while I’m telling you about shit that happened in the past three years.

I’m just Kaitlyn, then. If you would please tell us your story, Jim.

_[There is a long pause as Jim seems to gather his thoughts.]_

JK: Okay. When it started - or at least when I heard anything about it – I’d just reached Starfleet.

You were a third-year cadet, were you not?

JK: Yeah, Command track. See, Chris Pike picked me up in a bar in Iowa and dared me to do better than my dad. _[A dark chuckle.]_ Fat lot of good that dare is now… but we were talking about the Plague, not Chris. Met Bones on the way in the shuttle. He puked on me.

To clarify, Bones is Doctor Leonard McCoy.

JK: Yeah. He had nothing better to do either. We’d just moved into a new dorm when the weird shit started coming through on the news channels. ‘Fleet were panicking, I know ’cause I hacked one of my receivers to listen to encrypted broadcasts.

That is an offence that could lead to court martial.

JK: Yeah, but who’s still alive to martial me, huh? I thought this was my story, why do you keep interrupting?

I apologise.

JK: Anyway, at the same time we started hearing reports of this rabies-like disease, ‘Fleet officers were telling one another about this- this pandemic, where people were just going feral – that’s what we called them in the end. Ferals. Zombies was too cheesy, y’know? So all the cadets were whispering, and the news guys were picking up on all these weird stories. Bones was going wacko; he was paranoid about the ‘flu, STDs, colds – surprisingly, not alcohol poisoning – but this took the biscuit. I mean, a disease that made people _eat_ other people? He was going off his face. Then people started going home, one by one, leaving campus, because their families were getting scared.

Might I ask why you didn’t?

_[Jim is visibly uncomfortable.]_

JK: Thought you weren’t gonna interrupt. Answer to that is: I didn’t have a home to go to. Well, there is a house, but nobody’s in it. Mom’s been off-planet constantly for eight years now, and I haven’t spoken to her for six of ‘em. My brother Sam’s married and lives on Deneva, so he's safe. Everyone else is either dead, estranged, or I hate their guts, especially Frank. Fucking hope Frank got eaten alive. Bones couldn’t go and see his daughter because his ex-wife’s a bitch with full custody, so he was stuck in San Fran too. We stayed until the bitter end, and I _mean_ the bitter end. People started disappearing home faster and faster until there was just us sad bastards left with nowhere to go, then the first big groups started turning up. Of Ferals, I mean.

Can you describe one to me?

_[Jim fixes me with an incredulous look]_

JK: As if you don’t know what they look like.

Humour me. It’s just for the record.

JK: _[sighs]_ They look like us, at first, for the most part. Apart from the eyes, which are all filmy and glazed over. Creepy as fuck. You can tell them from a distance by the way they move – they tend to shuffle, drag their limbs, but some other stuff is stiff and robotic. Like, they’ll turn their heads fully to look at something, instead of just their eyes. The smell is pretty distinctive as well, all decayed and shit.

And the noise they make?

JK: _[stares]_ They don’t make noise. They might have done in the movies, moaning and growling and stuff, but in reality, they don’t. Makes it easier in some ways, because they can’t attract other Ferals, but you also can’t hear them coming. _[gaze drops to his lap]_ We lost a lot of people because of that.

_[He picks at the frayed left cuff of his battered leather jacket.]_

Eventually, you left San Francisco, though. Why was that?

JK: Bones wanted to go and find Joanna – that’s his daughter. He might not have had custody, but what did that matter when things had gone to shit? The quarantine began that morning, and there were messages to every terminal giving us piss-poor excuses as to why we’d been abandoned. _[He clenches his fists.]_ Then the disruptor wave knocked us all off the network, and our communicators went bust. Bones freaked out. I mean, we both freaked out, but Bones _freaked out,_ because how was he meant to contact his little girl when there was no comms network anymore? So he decided to take off and find her.

And why did you?

JK: _[shrugs, eyes lost]_ Bones was all I had. He’s my best friend, and he was frightened for his daughter. So I followed him.

 

* * *

 

 

‘-the fuck, Jim? They’ve abandoned us! The whole fucking Federation has left us to die!’

Jim had grown used to filtering out Bones’ all too frequent rants, but usually, he tended to listen when they weren’t directed at him. Now though, his attention was fading in and out, shell-shocked by the unsentimental message that had flashed up on the terminals in the dorm computer room, and the revelation that there was nobody coming to help. At least this time, unlike on Tarsus, there was no false hope. Bones had one hand tangled in his own hair, tugging at the roots, his teeth bared in a manic kind of rage, and Jim sank boneless into one of the creaky old chairs by the door. His communicator, as he tried it for what must have been the twentieth time that day, was unresponsive, his padd also. He closed his eyes against the burning artificial light from the overhead bulbs, their only option now that they had boarded the windows up. In a matter of days, the dorms had become a ghost town, populated by the very few that had nowhere else to go. The _zombies,_ for want of a better word, were much more prevalent, and Jim shivered as a shadow was cast over the thin stream of light that filtered through a crack in the boards. He hadn’t met one face to face yet, but he’d seen them, seen glimpses on campus before people took off running, seen them press their expressionless faces up against the windows which weren’t boarded, misty eyes lacking anything that might once have hinted at a soul inside. More and more every day.

‘I have to go.’

_That_ caught Jim’s attention.

‘What? _Where?’_

‘I have to find Jo-Jo,’ Bones rasped, his hair unkempt now that his hand had dropped to his side. ‘I can’t even call her to make sure she’s okay.’

His voice cracked on the last word, a sob escaping him, and Jim forced himself to his feet, stumbling over and clasping his biceps in support. Bones drew in a shaky breath, eyes wild and watery. Jim resigned himself to his fate.

‘Where is she?’

‘Staten Island,’ Bones replied nasally, gravity beginning to act on the dishevelled arcs of hair that combing his fingers through it had left. ‘Jocelyn took her there when she got a new job.’

Shit. That was going to take a while if the transporters – which the terminal message had stated had been taken offline – were truly inoperable. Still, he knew that Bones would stop at nothing to find his little girl, and therefore, so would Jim.

‘Right then,’ he muttered, letting his hands slip away from Bones’ arms. ‘We should try the transporters first, but if they’re not working, I’m sure there’s a hovercar we can jack.’

Bones stared, his brow furrowing in a way that was almost familiar, but not quite.

‘What do you mean? You want to come with me?’

‘Well yeah,’ Jim confirmed, insecurity beginning to pull at his stomach. ‘I mean… if that’s okay with you. I love Jo-Jo too.’

Bones continued to stare, and he almost backtracked. While he was accustomed to the feeling of not being wanted, with Bones, it brought fresh, startling pain. His aching lungs filled with air in preparation for a get-out clause, but then Bones’ face softened.

‘Y’sure, kid? It’s a long way if the transporters are bust, and I can’t guarantee it’ll be easy.’

Just like that, Jim could breathe again. His lips curved into a smile more genuine than most had ever seen from him.

‘You’re all I’ve got on Earth, Bonesy,’ he shrugged. ‘Pathetic, but true. C’mon, let’s go pack.’

Before he could see the effect his words had had, Jim turned and left the room, ignoring the shifting shadows from outside as he strode through the corridor. The thud of heavy footsteps followed a moment later, but he didn’t turn round, just wanting to get ready and go. He had thought that this was a place he could be better, could _do_ better, like Pike had said. Turned out to be just another nightmare. He had briefly entertained the fact that this could be some elaborate ‘Fleet hoax, conjured up by the Powers That Be in order to test the cadets. But even the brass didn’t have the power to take control of the news channels, and fuck, if those things outside weren’t real, then he’d marry a Vulcan.

Their room was on the fourth floor, so they hadn’t bothered boarding the window. Outside milled what remained of the ‘Fleet cadets, vacant and terrifying, some still in their uniforms. There was no one else in their dorm, the rest having left to find family or friends, and the place was horribly, unsettlingly quiet.

‘Christ, Jim, slow down,’ Bones complained, as he hurtled up the stairs. ‘Where’s the fire?’

‘Inside me,’ Jim snorted. ‘Hurry up, old man.’

He entered their room with his code, locked by habit, and began to shovel clothes and toiletries into a ratty old rucksack, an old relic from his teenage days when he’d run away more times than he could count. He didn’t look out of the window. There was a little time yet to play at being ignorant of the horrors that lurked outside. By his bed, Bones was doing the same, hesitantly picking up things that Joanna had made him – a misshapen clay pot, a dreamcatcher, a comb with bent prongs – and tucking them into his own bag. Jim wanted to yell at him for being sentimental, for wasting space with useless trinkets, because he knew the score when packing with no certainty at the finish line. But Bones was cradling each superfluous item the way you did precious things, and Jim had no one to love like that, and so he held his tongue.

‘What do we need?’

Bones broke the thick silence with a question quiet enough to strain Jim’s ears. He shrugged, pulling on his cracked leather jacket despite the heat.

‘Clothes. Water. Food. Weapons. Not everywhere has replicators, so we’ll have to find _actual_ food to take. We’ve got our phasers, obviously, and the charger should work since it’s battery-powered, but have you got anything else?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like… a knife?’ Jim asked, dragging his old F-S dagger out from where it had been concealed at the back of a drawer. ‘Or a gun?’

Bones shook his head.

‘In Georgia, not here. Sulu’d be pretty useful right about now.’

Jim smiled fleetingly, remembering how deadly Sulu had been in the Academy fencing matches, epée glinting in the Californian sun as he thrashed opponent after opponent.

‘Yeah,’ he whispered, tucking his knife into his inner jacket pocket. He didn’t know what had happened to Sulu in the melée, or Gaila, or Christine, or even Uhura, and it pained him to think of them when he’d seen so many corpses in the last few days. Phasers would do for now, but if he found anything better, he’d be grabbing it. Better armed to the teeth than defenceless in this fresh hell. Food and water were their next problems then. He almost always had food on him, having known the indescribable ache of a starving belly, and the hell he had put himself through in order to feed himself and the little ones. Non-perishables were tucked into the corner of his closet, concealed under his bed, and now he removed them, throwing tins into his bag and passing some to Bones without hesitation. Bones took what he was offered, a sad understanding on his face that wasn’t expressed in words. Jim was glad for that.

‘We’ll grab some stuff from the canteen, water especially,’ he said, testing the weight of his rucksack with a grimace. ‘Then we can go and check out the transporter. Your phaser charged?’

Bones nodded, his own bag considerably heavier considering the noise he made when he hauled it onto his back.

‘Right then. Let’s go.’

Bones was quiet, despite his earlier outburst, and Jim expected that the gravity of the situation had just hit him. He hadn’t quite processed it himself yet, but he still felt angry that he hadn’t truly appreciated the peace of before. Sure, he’d worked hard, and he’d enjoyed himself, but in the empty hallways of what remained, he realised how many people he’d never connected with, and how many of those people might already be dead. Dread seeped through him as they reached the canteen without incident, the kind that makes the stomach lurch in a misstep on the stairs, but he did his best to ignore it, making straight for the fridges of bottled water in the far left corner.

‘Bones, can you grab-’ he started, before realising that his friend was already raiding the shelves of the food store. ‘Never mind.’

He took as much water as he could carry, hefting his heavy rucksack onto his back and staggering off to find Bones, who emerged in a similar state.

‘I know this might seem like overkill right now, but we don’t know what’ll happen in New York.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Bones winced, wiggling his thumb underneath one of the straps so it didn’t cut into his shoulder so much. ‘Are we going? It’s not far to the transporter block.’

‘Yeah.’ Jim swallowed. ‘Have your phaser ready.’

There were a set of locked double doors at the back of the canteen, and amazingly, Jim had not seen any shadows crossing these windows in the past few days. His mouth went dry as he pressed the code in on a smudged screen, seeing Bones go white in his peripheral vision. Jim wanted to reassure him, but he didn’t know how to, instead pushing the door release and screwing his eyes up against the sudden sun. They stumbled out together into the light, hands raising to protect their vision, and Jim’s heart leapt into his throat as his ears focused and he heard shuffling footsteps.

_‘This way,’_ he mouthed, catching Bones’ sleeve with a finger as he moulded himself to the wall and crept along it, as silently as a child evading parental capture. In the strange quiet, he could hear Bones’ breathing quicken as they reached the corner of the building, and he peered round it, phaser drawn. Fortunately, the transporter block was in sight. Unfortunately, so were half a dozen of the infected. Jim’s eyes flicked from one to the next as they shambled across the courtyard like exhausted drunken revellers on the way home from a party, and leant back into Bones.

‘How stupid do you think they are?’ he whispered, barely audible.

‘The fuck if I know, Jim.’

Eyes narrowed, Jim bent to scoop up a handful of pebbles, throwing them as far as he could towards the shade of another building. As he had hoped, the sound of them skittering across the flagstones made heads turn, and each began a slow approach towards the noise. Jim signalled to Bones, and they bolted unseen across the strip of grass running along the edge of the stone towards the transporter block. When Jim reached the door, he scrabbled with the lock, gaze darting nervously towards the distracted group as he fumbled. Eventually though, he managed to key the right code in, and they all but fell inside, Jim only just remembering not to slam the door behind them.

‘Holy shit,’ he hissed, locking it, and making straight for the line of transporters at the other end of the room. His heart was going like the clappers, the same horrible fear that he had had in chase games as a child compressing his chest. ‘Holy fucking shit, Bones, they-’

‘Jim,’ Bones interrupted, and his voice was serious enough that Jim stopped fiddling with the wiring he had exposed with his knife.

‘What?’

‘Did you- Jim, one of them is Gary.’

Jim’s heart plummeted, a strange static buzzing in his ears. He shook his head to clear it, frowning.

‘No, no way. Are you sure?’ he asked, forgetting that they were meant to be hiding as he rushed over to the windows and peered back out. ‘Oh. Oh God.’

One of them _was_ Gary, still in his cadet uniform, but a great tear in it revealed the bloody wound he had received, stark against the pale skin around it. Jim hadn’t looked closely at each figure before, focused on getting them to safety, but now nausea pulsed in his belly as he noted the blank stare in what had once been such dynamic eyes. _Shit._ Gary had been awful to him, but he didn’t deserve this. Tearing his gaze away, Jim stalked back over to the transporters and went for the wiring again, fingers feeling numb and clumsy.

‘Jim… Jim, I’m-’

‘Don’t.’

‘But-’

‘He was an asshole, okay. I don’t care.’

That was a lie.

‘Are you going to let me get a sentence out?’ Bones chided softly, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder as he worked. Jim couldn’t suppress a flinch, a souvenir of darker days, but clutched at Bones’ hand when he tried to remove it. There was a familiar sigh.

‘I’m sorry, alright? I fucking hated him for the way he treated you when you guys were together, but it’s okay for you to be upset.’

‘It isn’t if it slows me down,’ Jim said flatly, scowling as his rewiring had no effect. ‘I’m fine. But it looks like these are busted. Bastards weren’t joking.’

He looked up at Bones, knowing that this would be a blow.

‘You alright?’

Bones nodded once, his lips set in a grim, thin line.

‘I’m still goin’ for her,’ he growled. ‘However long it takes. D’you reckon hovercars will work?’

Jim swiped his tongue across his lower lip, shrugging.

‘They’re supposed to work via gravity manipulation, but they also work with satellites, so I guess we’ll just have to see. There’ll be one nearby somewhere.’

‘Let’s go then,’ Bones snapped, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He’d never been one for the heat, but Jim knew that it might freeze where they were going.

‘You did bring a coat, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid.’

Jim opened his mouth to retort, but then there was a crashing sound behind the transporters, and Jim got his first look at a real-life zombie as a ‘Fleet engineer came lumbering into view. He whipped out his phaser, adrenaline pumping, and fired on stun as it staggered towards them, glazed eyes wide and unblinking. It did nothing. Jim panicked, agonising over whether or not to switch to kill as it approached, stumbling over torn uniform pants, and thank god for Bones. Frozen, Jim watched as the phaser blast hit the unfortunate thing square in the forehead, and it keeled over in a heap of tangled limbs barely a metre away.

‘They’re already dead, Jim,’ Bones told him, arm falling back to his side. ‘Remember that.’

Jim nodded, though still he stared at the fallen engineer, unease trickling down his spine. His phaser raised in case of another attack, he gestured for Bones to follow him towards the second, rarely-used exit, adrenaline overtaking any fear that lingered. They made their way to the door unmolested, but Jim could see a few more of the infected through the grimy window set into it.

‘Is that- Are they-?’

Bile rose in Jim’s throat as he realised why they were crouching. With gore smeared across their faces, they were pulling some poor bastard apart, teeth ripping into flesh with a spray of blood of concrete, tearing skin from bone. Jim felt sick.

‘At least it’ll give us a chance to get to a hovercar,’ he muttered, swallowing against his gag reflex. ‘There’s one over there, see?’

He pointed towards where a lone hovercar was parked haphazardly in a bay, door open, but no one inside.

‘Pray it damn well works. Otherwise we’ll have those three after our asses.’

Jim hesitated.

‘Okay, if it doesn’t, there’s a place near here with a few petrol cars,’ he remembered. ‘Far as I know, the guy who owns them keeps them in good shape, and with a tank of gas.’

‘And how would you know that?’

‘My dad had a penchant for classic cars,’ Jim muttered, suppressing a nervous cough as he reached for the old-style handle, glancing back at Bones, who nodded sharply. The door opened with a quiet hiss, but even that was enough to spark Jim’s nerves, gaze flicking back and forth between the feeding frenzy mere metres away from them, and the abandoned hovercar. He sent Bones ahead of him with a quick hand gesture, blood rushing in his ears as he kept his weapon trained on the group tearing into another human being like wild animals, the gravity of the situation only now beginning to dawn on him. By the time he had stumbled over to the hovercar, Bones was already poised by the driver’s seat, finger stabbing uselessly at the ignition button. There was a horrible anxiety in his eyes as he looked up at Jim, making the same repetitive motion.

‘Can you fix it?’ he mouthed, brow creased in anguish, and Jim shrugged helplessly. He knew bikes, knew old cars to some extent, but not hovercars. He felt like he was being watched, out here in the open, hairs rising on the back of his neck in some primitive warning mechanism, and before he could decide whether to stay and try and start it, or go to the garage, Bones made the decision for him. In clumsy desperation, he came stumbling round the bulk of the hovercar towards Jim, and his foot came into contact with an unseen bottle by the right front wheel. Jim watched in abject horror as the bottle skittered away from them, the dull thud of glass meeting boot soon dwarfed by the smash that signalled its contact with the wall. Such an inconsequential sound, in normality. But this was no longer normality. Bones was choking on an apology by the time it was halfway to its dooming destination, but apologies did not prevent the rise of four heads from their prey’s ruined body, nor the inevitable staggering to their feet, and pointed approach. Jim swore under his breath as he raised his shaking hand and shot, missing his mark the first time, but not the second, toppling a stringy-haired blonde girl into a tall black man like human skittles. He was shifting his aim to finish the job when Bones’ soft whimper drew his attention –

_‘Jim.’_

His arm dropped as he followed Bones’ finger, eyes focusing on an approaching mob, thirty- or forty-strong – and every deadened gaze was trained on them.

_‘Fuck,’_ he squeaked, panic spurring him into movement. The mob was perhaps less than a hundred metres away, and gaining. ‘Bones, we gotta-’

_‘Move!’_

Bones shoved him, hard, and he started running, firing blindly behind him as he tried to use muscle memory to remember the way to the garage, memory failing. One of the original group was almost on them when Bones swung around and shot it in the head, no time to make sure that the job was done as they left the relative safety of campus, pounding pavement. Jim grabbed Bones’ hand and dragged him, alarm bells shrieking in his head as the main road yielded yet more rising bodies, hands snatching out at them from open windows and slumped heaps in the road.

‘The next right, then to the end of the road,’ Jim whispered urgently, trying to ignore the increase in shuffling footsteps. He pulled Bones with him as he turned the corner, skittering to a halt as the road narrowed and the numbers increased, picking a few off as he tried to decide what to do.

‘Can’t go back, Jim,’ Bones growled, shooting at the closest – a dark-suited woman, and – _fuck_ – an Andorian. He was right. Though the approaching mob didn’t make a sound, he could still hear their movements, and as he took out a set of Caitian twins and a sparrow-boned teenager, he began trying to thread his way through the gaps before they closed, starting as a fingernail scraped his ear and Bones shot whatever was clawing at him. They were almost there, almost there, the crowd thinning a little the further away from the main road they got, and Jim sprinted towards the garage in a final burst of energy, dragging Bones in and slamming the doors behind them. Black spots danced over his vision as his lungs fought for air, forcing it inwards with a ragged inhale, and Bones didn’t look much better, bent forward with his hands on his knees. His backpack fell to the floor with a loud thud.

‘We gotta go,’ Jim said hoarsely, flinching at the first slam against the bowing wooden doors. His eyes ran over each pristine car, making the appropriate calculations. ‘The Jeep’s our best bet, I think.’

‘Right,’ Bones replied weakly, shoving his backpack into the passenger footwell along with Jim’s.

‘And we’re gonna need about six petrol cans.’

The slamming against the doors was becoming more and more frequent, and Jim wasted no time hefting two cans into the backseat from where they sat in rows against the back wall, not bothering with the roof rack. Bones was following his lead when there was a splintering noise, and they both whirled to see a crack widening in one of the doors, the weight of too many bodies pushing against it.

‘Shit. _Go!’_

Bones obeyed, pushing his two next to the first, and went back for more as Jim sprang for the ignition, keys resting on the blind as they always did. With another loud crack, a panel splintered away from the rest, and Bones dropped a can in fright, petrol spilling over the floor.

‘Leave it,’ Jim hissed, the car sputtering gloriously to life just as the door cracked almost in two and the frenzied mob came into view, held back only by the centre piece of wood. ‘Come _on!’_

Bones hauled the last can into the Jeep and dragged himself into the passenger seat, slamming the door as the _crackcrackcrack_ of wood grew louder. Jim revved the engine, heart pounding, and then the door gave way, and he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, the Jeep bucking wildly as they mowed down a dozen writhing bodies, yet more clawing at the armoured sides of the Jeep. They skidded as they hit the open road, Jim barely keeping control when they ploughed through the greatest mass of the mob, and then they were leaving most behind them, a heady relief filling Jim as he watched them in the rear-view mirror.

_‘Fuck,’_ he gasped, trying to keep an eye on Bones as they weaved through stragglers. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Bones deadpanned. ‘Fuck, Jim, ’course I’m not alright, and neither are you!’

‘Yeah, that’s true,’ Jim rasped. His breathing was calming now, and he had only just realised how hot he was in his jacket, shrugging it off. Bones helped him drag the oppressive fabric away, and he sighed at the mild relief, trying the A/C. It worked, thank God.

‘Do you know where you’re going?’

‘Interstate 80E,’ Jim nodded, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. ‘Travelled it before. It’s going to take us a few days, though, even if we take turns sleeping.’

Bones sighed, one booted foot swinging up to rest on the dashboard. His laces were double-knotted and fraying, like usual, and it comforted Jim to see even such a small slice of familiarity. When Bones didn’t seem to want to reply, gaze blank and unfocused, Jim turned his attention elsewhere, running over a thrashing body with the barest hint of a wince. As they sped through suburbia, he saw horrors he had never before witnessed, endless streams and pockets of bloody walking corpses, old and young, male and female, black and white, human and Orion and Andorian. Still more bent over the remains of their kin with teeth bared, blood and brain and bone strewn carelessly across too-green grass and uneven concrete, and for a gut-wrenching moment, Jim wondered if he and Bones were the only ones left.

‘They’re feral,’ Jim remarked, the silence having become too much to bear. He watched as a pack descended on a screaming man in the distance, but by the time he went for the accelerator, the poor guy’s throat had been ripped out. ‘That’s what we should call them. Ferals.’

Bones had turned to stare at the carnage they left behind, fingers twitching like they did whenever he saw someone in pain and couldn’t get to a hypo.

‘I mean, ‘zombie’ is too cheesy,’ Jim babbled, nausea returning with a sudden vengeance. He slammed the brakes on, and opened the door to dry heave onto the road, Bones’ large warm hands coming to rest on his shoulders, and a gentle sting in his neck signalling a depressed hypospray. The drugs worked just as well as they always did, a welcome constant, and before a nearby Feral could come crawling up to him, he shut the door again.

‘You okay?’ Bones asked, brow as crinkled as ever, and Jim nodded, flinching as the Feral pressed its face up against the window, a handsome face marred by a frozen, unnerving stare. He pressed the accelerator, and promptly stalled, trying again with the car in gear. He let out a shaky breath as they set off again, ignoring the squeak of the Feral sliding across his window.

‘I’m fine, I think. Did you notice that it’s more than humans?’

‘What? No!’

‘That’s why they’ve quarantined us, the bastards,’ Jim hissed, slowing a little as they hit the dual carriageway, and met a queue of hovercars, bodies weaving between them. ‘Fuck, we’re gonna have to go round. Why are there so many here?’

‘The disruptor shit only happened this morning, Jim,’ Bones pointed out, swearing as Jim pushed them up onto the verge beside the road. Ferals turned to look as they sped past the abandoned vehicles, beginning to stagger after them, and seeing the human vultures prey upon the remains of the drivers and their families, Jim was unbelievably glad that they had the Jeep.

‘Try and get some shut-eye, will you?’ he asked, swinging back onto the road as it cleared in the wake of a barrier. ‘I’ll have to at some point, and I don’t want us sleeping at the same time in this shit.’

‘As if I’m going to be able to sleep like this, dimwit,’ Bones snapped, but he closed his eyes anyway, leaning back against the headrest. Jim noticed the thread bracelet he was wearing for the first time as his hands came to rest in his lap, and remembered with a jolt that Joanna had made it for him for Father’s Day. _Fuck,_ he hoped she was still alive. He hoped that there was help to be found somewhere. No stranger to terrible situations, Jim gritted his teeth against the fear and dread and floored the accelerator, the stark image of Gary’s glazed eyes tormenting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Some of you may have read my last fic, most of you probably haven't, but I hope you enjoy this latest story either way! It's my birthday tomorrow, so I thought I'd put this up while I had the chance. Every chapter will begin with an interview excerpt, and then move onto the character's recollections, focusing mainly on our beloved triumvirate :) I'm a pretty consistent poster, and even though I'm hella busy at the moment, I will definitely have the next chapter up within a month - two weeks hopefully.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I've written so far, and feel free to ask questions or chat to me over at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	2. The Dying Of The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan, and anyone else who is freaked out by gore, the worst is between 'Jim stood on wobbly legs', and '‘Okay, kid?’'. Take care of yourselves <3

Stardate 2261.67. 0945 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

Yesterday, Jim’s interview ended rather suddenly when he was needed to intervene in an argument between two crewmembers. It is obvious that he is greatly respected among the varied group of people who have come to follow him, and having seen him taking a leadership role with the other survivors, it is easy to see why. Today, he is quieter, less defensive. I am not arrogant enough to believe that it is because he is warming to me, but it is true nonetheless. In our last conversation, Jim described the beginnings of their journey to New York, but when I ask him to describe the rest, he deems it unnecessary.

JK: Nothing significant happened. We saw some fucked up shit – some _really_ fucked up shit – but we survived it, even if there were a few problems when we were filling the car up.

What sort of things did you see?

JK: _[withering look]_ What do you think we saw? People getting eaten alive right in front of us, screaming as their guts were ripped out. We’d try to help them by shooting out of the window, but most of the time it was too late. One time we stopped just outside Toledo because there was a group of guys running from some Ferals, and after we helped them out, they tried to jack our car. Didn’t stop much after that.

How long did it take you to get to New York?

JK: About a week. We had to deviate from our route every once in a while, either because there was too many of ’em to plough through, or less often, because the roads were jammed with busted hovercars.

You didn’t encounter that often?

JK: No.

_[I had thought that pile-ups would be standard in a crisis such as this.]_

Perhaps people were waiting in their homes for help to arrive?

JK: Yeah, maybe. I think it’s more likely that there was nowhere to run, so they tried hiding. People went home to find their families and stayed there, and then were overrun. Those that did try and leave… well, we saw what happened to most of them. Half-eaten corpses scattered all over the place. It was so strange to see the highways empty. It was almost like everyone just vanished – if there hadn’t been so many fucking Ferals.

A traumatic experience then.

JK: _[laughs, slightly hysterically]_ The last three years have been an ongoing traumatic experience, trust me.

I imagine so. So you arrived in New York state relatively unscathed?

JK: We didn’t arrive there by car at all. Jo-Jo lived on Staten Island and we were running on fumes by the time we got to Perth Amboy.

Perth Amboy?

JK: It’s on the east side of New Jersey, and there’s a bridge that connects to Staten Island. Bones was really antsy by the time we got there, raring to get to Jo-Jo, but we had no choice but to walk. That was fucking scary. We’d been in the Jeep for a week, watching what happened to people without that protection, and now we were going to be two of those unfortunate bastards.

Where was Joanna’s home?

JK: _[quieter now]_ Huguenot. I wasn’t sure where that was, but Bones knew.

And did you arrive there without trouble?

_[Jim frowns, eyes distant and hollow.]_

JK: There was always trouble.

 

* * *

 

 

There didn’t seem to be anything moving outside, but Jim was still reluctant to leave the car. Barren as it was, the landscape reminded him of Tarsus, complete with an acrid stench of death that curled thick and unpleasant at the back of his throat. Bones was much less hesitant. Backpack donned, he was already waiting outside with his phaser held loosely in his right hand, and eyes that lasered into Jim through the smudged glass. A man on a mission. Deciding that he could be a wuss no longer, Jim retrieved his own backpack from the passenger footwell and stepped out, his phaser coming straight from its holster. Bones gave him a look when he locked the car and slipped the keys into his pocket.

‘What? It’s our car.’

‘That ain’t worth a thing if we can’t get gas,’ Bones drawled, setting off for the distant bridge before Jim had even finished his sentence. Jim followed, of course, and despite (or because of) the absolute inactivity around them, he moved his dagger from inside his jacket to his belt. Better safe than sorry. They’d parked far enough away from the urban sprawl that they were unlikely to have disturbed many infected, but Jim was still nervous, hearing hypersensitive in the heavy silence. Bones was off like a bloodhound that could smell fox, and Jim hurried along behind, down the long expanse of a street named Bruck Avenue, a lone Feral dragging grasping fingertips against its lounge window and making the glass shriek. Jim flinched, but carried on with his head down. They crossed an old railway line, and met a thick expanse of trees, which Bones seemed determined to wade his way through.

‘Don’t you think we should try another way?’ Jim whispered, catching his arm.

Before replying, Bones snapped off a low-hanging branch, fingering the sharp end of it.

‘Nothin’s gonna stop me getting to my baby girl, Jim, especially not some damn trees.’

Falling silent, Jim acquiesced, fighting his way through the thick foliage alongside him, cursing as a branch snapped back into his face. Warm liquid trickled down his cheek. He wanted to talk to Bones, get back to the easy banter that they normally shared and ease the tension, but Bones didn’t seem interested, ploughing ahead as he was.  Emerging from out of the treeline a moment after him, Jim wiped at his cheek and jogged a little to catch up, almost running straight into his back.

‘What?’ he asked, and then saw what he was looking at. ‘Oh.’

Before them was a closed-off industrial estate, a six foot wire fence surrounding the compound.

‘Bones, that’s not a problem,’ he laughed breathlessly, squeezing his arm before he took off for the fence.

‘Don’t touch it, imbecile!’ Bones hissed, right behind him. ‘Could be electrified – and you don’t know what it-’

Too late – Jim had already grabbed at the (thankfully harmless) wire, chucked his backpack over and started climbing. He gestured for Bones’ pack when he landed, smirking at the curled lip he received as the bag nearly smacked him in the face. Bones made his way over a little slower, and by that time, the hair was rising on the back of Jim’s neck, feeling as if he was being watched.

‘Come on,’ he whispered, and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Bones landed hard, mouth open, and Jim shoved his hand over it, stabbing his finger towards the wandering group to their right. As quietly as they could, they shouldered their backpacks and took off.

‘Jim, they’re following,’ Bones murmured, jogging turning into a full-blown run as he tugged Jim along. As he looked back, he saw that Bones was right – a few stragglers dressed in torn and bloody high-vis leading the forming mob. _Fuck,_ Jim thought, too out of breath to express the sentiment verbally as they bolted through the estate, the odd invader in front shot down by his phaser. The gates were open, thank god, but as they went for the home stretch, a foul-smelling figure stumbled out of nowhere and clawed at him, collar ensnared in inhumanly-strong hands. He yelped, fumbling with his phaser with one hand as the other pushed the snapping jaws ineffectually away, flinching at the smell of iron on its breath. Bones was his saviour, putting it down with a short phaser blast and pushing Jim forwards as the mob approached, forcing his shaky legs into action. No time for words now, it felt like they ran endlessly, through a park, an abandoned baseball field, yet more trees, until finally, finally, they reached the water edge. After a cursory look to check that the coast was clear, Jim collapsed to his knees, lungs on fire as he gasped in air he had needed fifteen minutes ago. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, feeling dizzy as he looked blearily up at Bones, who seemed to be in a similar state.

‘Holy shit,’ he gasped, even the words seeming too much effort at the moment. ‘Holy shit, we gotta be careful. Maybe we should stick to the roads, if we want to be alive for Jo.’

Bones nodded, though there was a recalcitrant set to his mouth. He looked up at the bridge, then back down at Jim.

‘How the hell we gonna get up there?’

‘Climbing,’ Jim grinned, standing up and suddenly realising just how full his bladder was. ‘Just let me take a piss first.’

Bones grumbled in reply, and Jim turned, caring nothing for propriety as he pulled himself out of his boxers and did just that. There was no one to see anyway. When he was done, he went to dip his hands in the water before scurrying back to Bones.

‘You wanna go first? I can push on your ass if you get stuck.’

‘Don’t you dare touch my ass, Princess,’ Bones growled, but set off first anyway. Jim waited a little while to make sure he wouldn’t fall, and by the time he had dragged himself over the top, Bones was standing, staring at the mess before them.

‘Holy shit,’ Jim said again. There were pile-ups almost all the way across the bridge, hovercars mashed into one another like the ‘horror crash’ that you saw once in a blue moon on the news. ‘Guess we found where everyone went.’

Bones ignored his quip, pointing at one car in particular, in which a woman squirmed – no. Not a woman. The Feral writhed in its seatbelt, constrained by it, but obviously not about to give up. Jim nodded, adrenaline beginning to surge once more, and took out his phaser again, the charge on which seemed to be running pretty low.

 _‘Shit,’_ he swore, and when Bones glanced at him in question, he shook his head, holding it up. ‘Just got to be sparing with my fire until I can charge it.’

Normally, they’d stop to do just that, but Bones evidently didn’t want to wait, and Jim didn’t want to ask. Of course he wanted to get to Jo-Jo as soon as possible. Jim wanted her safe too, wanted to protect her from all the shit they had seen. He gestured wordlessly forwards, and set off before Bones; the directions were self-explanatory on the bridge, and he would keep him safe for Joanna if he could. As they wound their way through the wreckage, Jim flinched away from flailing limbs emerging from broken windows, ignoring the steady _thud, thud, thud_ of a head mindlessly making contact with glass, and hated himself for being glad that these people had turned while trapped. It was slow progress, hindered by twisted piles of metal and clawed hands, and when Jim saw a lone Feral ahead, he pushed Bones’ phaser back down.

‘If it comes near us, I’ll stab it,’ he said, voice pitched low, and drew his dagger. He signalled for Bones to crouch, using an empty, expensive hovercar as cover as they crept forwards, grit digging into his hands. From what he could see, the Feral had been a rather portly middle-aged man, ill-fitting shirt straining across a generous beer belly. Jim might have thought he was human, were it not for the claret dripping from, and drying on, his chin. Crawling across the tarmac, they were doing pretty well until Jim heard a scraping noise coming from a car to their left. He froze on reflex, and then the door flung wide open and a small, twisted, bloody figure came tumbling out. Jim yelped as it collided with him, knocking him off balance, and if it hadn’t been for the tangle of a seatbelt around its body, he was sure that he would have been bitten. Horrified, he squirmed away from that primary threat to meet a second – the Feral that they had been hiding from. It squeezed through a gap between two cars, shirt tearing, and came straight for them.

Jim stood on wobbly legs, pushing away hesitancy with the echo of Bones’ words. _They’re already dead._  He let the Feral come to him, grasping hands outstretched, and when it tripped and fell over a detached tyre, he took his chance. He’d never killed, but by God, he’d wanted to on Tarsus, remembered the arcing movement of the knife towards one of the unconscious guards who had ripped away the remnants of his childhood. He had stilled his blade then. No longer. He bent and dealt the Feral a savage blow, driving his dagger into its skull with gritted teeth. It spasmed, then lay still. Jim drew in a shaky breath as he pulled the knife out and wiped it on the dead thing’s shirt, turning back to Bones.

‘You al-’

His question died in his throat as he saw Bones’ face, pale, and drawn in horror. For one horrifying moment, he thought that he had done wrong, that Bones was disgusted by his barbarism, but then he realised that that expression was not for him. It was for the wretched creature ensnared in what had once been a safety net – and was now its chains. Jim sucked in air through his nose as it raised its head, tiny jaws snapping, and displayed a bloody mess in place of eyes, bones visible beneath the gore. The sound Bones made was full of pain, a quiet cry of anguish, and Jim understood. This blinded, spitting, silent wretch was all that remained of what might have been a living child a mere day ago. For a man with such hope for his daughter, it was a crippling blow. With barely enough time to turn his head, Jim projectile vomited the meagre contents of his stomach, spattering across the bloodied ground. _Please God, don’t let that be Jo-Jo._ As the nausea died, a warm hand settled on the back of his neck, squeezing gently.

‘Okay, kid?’ Bones asked, subdued. Jim flashed him a tremulous smile as he looked up, thankful for the mint flashers he’d tucked into a side pocket. He shoved one in his mouth, studying Bones’ worn expression, and cocked his head to the side.

‘C’mon. I’m fine,’ he insisted, hitching up his backpack. The dagger stayed out. ‘I’ll take care of them for a while – we might need the phasers later.’

Bones nodded, wincing at the weight of his own pack. He took the lead once more. Jim didn’t try and stop him. The rest of the bridge seemed relatively empty of anything sinister, but he avoided looking into cars regardless, his fragile veneer of composure having almost been shattered by the sight of a stained car-seat that lay abandoned in the road. People had left their kids on Tarsus too. It wasn’t that everyone on the colony was a scumbag, but when push came to shove, and people were trying to save their other kids (or even themselves), sometimes little ones got left behind. These were the babies that Jim found on his night food raids of the outer villages, the ones he found huddled in cupboards or under beds, or even wailing under the night sky, swaddled in cloth. It was a miracle that they had lived – a miracle that the guards hadn’t found them. Jim had tried so hard to keep his kids alive. He had starved himself ’til he had stick-like wrists and countable ribs, bringing what little he found back to the slowly diminishing group, sick and pale, and so, so thin. They had eaten reeds and chewed on twigs and pulled out the stuffing from furniture to fill their bellies. It was not enough. Jim had tried in vain, bartered his young vessel of a body in vain, because even the guards had starved in the end. When Starfleet had finally appeared, there were nine when there had once been over twenty. Kevin, Thomas, Freya… god, he hoped they were still alive. Even if they were hiding from the monsters like they once had. Even if there was a new hell for them to live through.

By the time they reached the other side of the water, Jim was drenched in sweat, but he dared not remove his jacket in case he lost it. Bones was in a similar state, dragging a hand across his forehead as they prepared to climb back down, wanting to avoid the main road.

‘How far is it to Jo?’ he panted.

‘A few miles,’ Bones replied, taking a quick swig of water before starting his descent. ‘We can get some water here for her.’

Jim scrambled down after him, landing with a thud, and dragged a purification tablet out of his pocket to pass to him. Bones dropped it into the bottle of water he had collected, and eyed the terrain as he shook it.

‘It’s that way,’ he murmured, nodding towards yet another dense thicket of trees. ‘We follow the road for now.’

He wasn’t about to wait for Jim – and Jim didn’t expect him to. Dread gnawed at his belly as they made their way through the greenery, alert to the point of paranoia. It had only truly hit him how much danger Joanna was in when he had seen that wild, mutilated child writhing in its bonds. Even the little ones could become monsters. Their journey seemed endless, trailing alongside the high road. Once, they saw a truck teetering over the edge, its cab containing a Feral with its face mashed into what remained of its passenger, its terrible gluttony their saviour. They met few infected on the way, but those they did, Jim insisted on putting down with his dagger. No sense in diminishing what little charge they had when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Bones was grey and silent as they walked, and Jim wanted to ask him how long it would take them to get there when the cool of the afternoon set in, but he didn’t dare. Bones looked like he was being held together by sheer willpower, trembling in a way that undermined his ‘steadiest hands in the ’fleet’ reputation, and Jim couldn’t stand it. In any crisis, his best friend had always been dependable, unmoveable, the strongest man he knew. Now, as the world fell apart around them, Bones was crumbling, and Jim knew that he would have to take the strain, for both their sakes.

An hour or so into their trek, as the trees gave way to a more suburban landscape, Bones stopped, hooking a finger into Jim’s backpack strap so that he didn’t continue without him.

‘What? You lost?’ Jim asked, eyes on the nearby run of houses rather than Bones.

‘Of course not!’ Bones snapped, as if Jim had asked if he had forgotten the location of the human heart. ‘Just reminding you that we need to be cautious. I want to get to Jo in one damn piece!’

‘Was the ‘damn’ really necessary there?’

‘With you? Always. Forget the fuckin’ apocalypse, it’s you who’s still putting grey hairs on my head!’

Jim was going to reply with a witty repartee, but he saw how brittle Bones’ calm façade had become, and decided against it.

‘I’ll be careful,’ he promised, clasping Bones’ shoulder and squeezing. ‘Which way now?’

‘We’re best veering off to the right, still close to the treeline,’ Bones muttered, apparently not convinced. They both froze as a lone Feral came staggering across their path, and then another further up the road. Jim held his breath as they passed without incident, exchanging a loaded look with Bones. One blade wasn’t exactly the number of usable weapons he wanted them to be carrying. After they picked up Jo-Jo, he’d offer to go on a raid and grab what he could to defend them. They were right under the overpass now, passing beneath the bridge Jim knew to be weighed down with corpses, animated or otherwise. Passing by yet another body ripped apart for carrion, he studied the visible ribcage and cracked skull with dull horror, recalling another he had found in a similar state in Tarsus, the native vulture-like birds the culprit. What the hell had turned human beings – and their humanoid counterparts – into something which resembled starving animals? Tired and hungry, so absorbed was he in his own grim contemplation that he didn’t notice the teetering hovercar until it was too late. The quiet creak of metal became a screech, and it was only Bones’ harsh shove which prevented him from being flattened beneath the weight of it. Glass shattered on impact as Jim’s forward momentum took him to hands and knees, a sharp piece of the windscreen whipping out and lashing across his cheek, lacerating the skin. He yelped in pain, cradling the wound, and yet he was already getting to his feet, knowing that the horrendous crash would only attract trouble.

‘We gotta go now!’ he hissed, even as Bones tried to drag his hand away from his cheek.

‘That needs fixin’, kid.’

Without another word, he snatched up Bones’ hand and broke into a run, panic constricting his lungs as the familiar feeling of being hunted bore down upon him. As they tore through the trees, he could hear the brush of leaves and the snapping of twigs close by, and he fumbled with his phaser, primal survival instincts taking hold. _Run, run, run,_ his body told him, long-lost muscle memory taking control of the situation as he dragged Bones with him, needing to get away from the guards and back to the children, find food for them, dig a new grave and- no. Reality came back to him in a painful rush as they broke through the treeline and were confronted with a pack of Ferals that reached for them, jaws snapping. Jim swerved, nearly falling in the attempt to keep Bones away from danger. He shot blindly as he felt something brush against his hair, lashing out at a green-haired teenager in a gimmicky ’Fleet shirt, and tripped up a short, elderly man in a dressing gown before it could come at him with teeth he wasn’t entirely sure were its own. Bones was his saviour yet again when the mob converged upon him, shooting down enough that they all fell over one another, and pulling him to his feet.

‘Thanks,’ he said breathlessly, swapping his failing phaser for his dagger to take out the few that remained animated, sprawled in a squirming pile.

‘It’s fine,’ Bones replied, phaser raised. ‘I need to look at that cut, Jim, but Jo-Jo’s so close…’

Jim only now realised that they had stumbled into suburbia, row upon row of cookie-cutter houses lining the streets. His wound throbbed, but he’d had much worse, and Bones was staring down the road with wild eyes, tracking the progress of a lone Feral as it meandered across the street towards an open door.

‘It’s nothing, let’s go.’

He hitched up his backpack and took off after Bones, whose speed-walking forced Jim into a jog, silently cursing his best friend’s height. Bones took out every one of the infected they came across, mouth set and phaser flashing in the waning sunlight, a true force to be reckoned with. Jim trailed along behind, a strange sense of foreboding tugging at his stomach. He thought he was just reacting to the new environment, where foreboding was quickly proving to be a sensible survival mechanism, but as they reached a street corner, Bones stilled.

‘Jo-Jo,’ he whispered, and Jim squinted into the distance to see what he was looking at. At the bottom of the road, there was a fancy apartment block, the glass doors to which were cracked and splintering. Jim’s heart sank. Bones broke into a dead sprint, heedless of whoever, or whatever, might be watching, and Jim did his best to follow, but nothing would match the speed of a parent trying to save their child. He came skittering into the building a few precious seconds after Bones, slipping in a pool of red and slamming into the reception desk before making for the stairs as he heard the squeak of boots on tile. First, second, third, fourth floor, Jim felt like his lungs were collapsing what with the weight of his pack and the heat of the building. Bones surged ahead, fifth, sixth, seventh, and they hit eighth just as a pyjama-clad Feral came lurching unsteadily around the corner. Perhaps reacting on instinct, Bones shoved straight it over the low railings, and they caught their breath as it toppled over and hit the ground floor with an audible thump. Jim expected Bones to keep going, but he turned and clutched at the railings with white-knuckled hands, staring down at the broken body. When Bones’ expression darkened with horror, so too did Jim's, and his stomach lurched. He recognised that face.

‘Joce,’ Bones rasped, his voice cracking. The terrible implications of those open, glazed eyes hit Jim along with a powerful sense of urgency, watching blood pool around the head of Joanna’s mother. In a sudden explosion of movement, Bones went tearing up one more flight of stairs, Jim following even as nausea churned in his belly.

‘Jo-Jo?’ Bones called, a desperate cry that sought reassurance. There was no reply, and as Bones stopped dead in front of a cracked-open door, Jim almost slammed into him.

‘Jo-Jo?’ Bones called again, softer this time, as he pushed the door slowly open. ‘Baby girl?’

Again, no reply. Jim felt decidedly sick as they edged their way into the apartment, a spray of shattered china decorating the corridor.

‘Hope you’ve got shoes on, darlin’! You could hurt your feet out here!’

 _Bones,_ Jim wanted to say, _Bones, you **know,** _ but the words wouldn’t rise in his constricting throat, tongue feeling fat, and thick, and swollen. There was so much blood, sprayed across the walls and painted on the floor, and as they reached what appeared to be the living room, Jim could see a flash of dark hair behind a sleek armchair. Bones obviously saw it too, because he whimpered in relief, dropping to his knees.

‘Bones,’ Jim warned, but Bones wasn’t listening. He held his arms out wide in welcome.

‘Jo-Jo,’ he smiled, tears in his eyes and his voice. ‘C’mere, baby, Daddy’s here. You don’t need to be scared.’

The flash of dark hair moved as Joanna got to her feet and turned towards them. Only she wasn’t Joanna any more. Time seemed to slow as Jim took in her bloody, matted hair, the messy gouge in her arm, and the gore smeared across her pallid face from nose to chin. There was a tail poking out from behind the chair, unmoving. No. Not Jo-Jo. Not the little girl he had taught how to play monopoly, the little girl whom he had allowed to plait his hair and paint his face and dress him up however she wanted. The little girl he had rocked back to sleep one night with tearstained cheeks when Bones had been called away to a medical emergency during his precious few days with her. Not Joanna. Jim choked on his own misery, a pounding beginning in his head that matched the pulse of his heartbeat as he turned to Bones, whose arms were still raised. His smile was still there, but it was broken, brittle, as fragile as the china that had smashed in the hallway. The creature that once was his daughter came staggering over to them, little stained teeth bared in a rabid snarl.

‘Bones,’ Jim whispered.

‘She’s fine, ain’t you, baby girl?’ Bones asked tremulously, fingers twitching. ‘She’s gonna be okay.’

‘Bones, no…’

Joanna continued to advance, hands forming claws as she reached for them. There was no recognition in her filmy eyes.

‘She is. I can fix her,’ Bones insisted, his voice thin and weak, taking on a desperate edge. ‘What good am I as a Daddy, as a _doctor,_ if I can’t fix her?’

‘I’m so sorry, Leo,’ Jim choked. Joanna was three metres away and gaining, Bones still frozen with his arms wide open. Jim stared at her dead eyes and snapping jaws and raised his phaser. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

He pulled the trigger, and the little girl who had called him Uncle Jimmy dropped, small body falling gracelessly and hitting the floor with a terrible thud. She had been six years old.

‘No!’ Bones shrieked, wet and hoarse as if the words had been torn from his throat. ‘No, no, no, no, no!’

He fell forward onto his hands and crawled the meagre distance to his only child, whom Jim knew he had loved more than all the stars this universe had to offer him. As Jim watched, helpless, useless, tears streaming down his face, Bones gathered Joanna into his arms and cradled her, rocking back and forth. One blood-stained boot slipper hung half off her foot.

‘Baby, please… _please.’_

Bones plea was strangled, barely audible, as he pressed his forehead to Joanna’s, tears dripping from his face and running down hers. He whimpered, jerking with every incremental breath. Jim let his phaser fall with a clatter. _Fuck,_ what did it matter anymore? As it hit the floor, Bones stiffened, as if he had forgotten he was there.

‘Get out,’ he hissed, true fury in his voice.

Jim flinched, curling a hand around his elbow.

‘Bones,’ he said weakly, a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

‘ _Get. **Out.’**_

As if he had been struck, Jim recoiled, then fled from the apartment, only stopping when he reached the railings once more, staring down at Jocelyn’s twisted body. Grief sat heavy upon his chest, aware of his cheek stinging now that the immediate danger was gone. His eyes traced the blonde hair fanned out around her head, matted with blood, and in her features, Jim could see the little girl he had shot. The world shifted around him as he leant against the barrier, the apartment block becoming an empty grain store, Jocelyn a starved corpse left to be eaten by the dogs, and behind him, Tommy shifted nervously.

‘Jimmy, what do we do?’ he asked, pitched high with fear. Jim opened his mouth to answer, not entirely sure himself, but then stumbling footsteps behind him sent things snapping back into place. He whirled around, scrabbling for his knife with uncooperative fingers as a Feral with its arm hanging off rapidly approached, so close that Jim could smell the putrid air around it. Jim might not have wanted to live, but fuck, he didn’t want to die either, and so when he found the dagger trapped in the lining of his pocket, he was somewhat relieved when a phaser bolt took it down a few feet in front of him. He sagged in relief as he saw a shifting in the shadows of the apartment.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

Bones was dead-eyed when he emerged, silent and shaking. He made no comment about Jim’s idiocy in not taking his phaser, like he normally would. For a second or two, Jim dared not touch him, because the trembling was more of fury than of distress; like a lit firework without a steady base, he seemed liable to explode at any moment. But Jim wanted to stop the godawful shaking, the open collapse of the steadiest man he had ever known, and so he entered the danger zone with little thought for his own safety. He expected, and accepted, the first punch, rolling with it as pain rippled across his jaw, and bit his cheek on reflex, tasting iron. It was a familiar pain, at least. The second was to his stomach, a strong blow that left him winded, and he bent over, gasping, as a third landed on the other side of his face. He didn’t fight back, didn’t want to hurt his first, best friend, and as the blows continued to come, he collapsed back against the wall, fighting the urge to curl in on himself like a child, like Frank’s punchbag. His eyes closed. Abruptly, he felt Bones still, the air around him stagnant, and he tentatively opened one sore eye. Bones looked horrified, staring at the mess his face must be, and though he was obviously still saturated with grief, he seemed like he was seeing clearly for the first time since they had entered the apartment.

‘Jim,’ he whispered, looking lost. His face was stained with tears, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, and despite the fact that Jim felt like crawling into a hole and dying, he wiped away the blood trickling from his nose and stood up straight. He had always worked best when he had someone to look after, and while it might not be the person he had expected, it was still someone he cared about. They might not enjoy living, but they would damn well survive.

‘You hate me? Fine. But I’ll be damned if you fall into some grief-filled stupor and get bitten. Keep that anger, Bones, you’ll need it.’

Bones just stared at him, seemingly dazed, and he ignored the lock of hair that fell over his forehead.

‘So here’s what we’re gonna do,’ Jim continued, resolute. ‘We’ll stay in the building for a while, charge the phasers, recuperate, and then set off back to San Fran. There must be something ’Fleet can do. On the way, we can stop off in Riverside and take all of the bastard’s old hunting knives. He left ’em at the house when he got sent down. Alright? Now go and see if that apartment is clear for us to stay in.’

He pointed at the door to their right, closed, and apparently undamaged. Bones obeyed, silent and slow, and Jim went back into the apartment they had just left. He picked up his dying phaser, and finally allowed himself to look at Joanna’s body, laid out carefully on the floor with her eyes closed and her hands crossed over her chest. Spying a patchwork throw on the sofa, Jim took it and covered her with it, running a gentle hand over her matted hair before he covered her head. Grief overwhelmed him for a second, for this little girl that he had loved like his own child, but then he repressed it, as he always had. Her father was his priority now. Stuffing his phaser haphazardly into its holster, Jim straightened and left the apartment to find Bones. He did not look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for killing Joanna, but I had to. This is probably the lowest ebb for any of the characters, and I do promise that there will be some lightness coming! I've struggled to get this chapter up, and I'm afraid the next will almost certainly have to wait until the end of this month because I have final-year exams for my degree. Still, it'll give you chance to think about what's coming next, and I'll give you a tiny clue: the next chapter is from the POV of our favourite Vulcan :) Hope you guys liked this chapter - please tell me what you think, and feel free to come and chat with me on my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Out Of The Land Of The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make it clear before you read: there will never be a Spock/Uhura relationship in this fic. Also, Ivan, and anyone else who gets squicked out by gore, miss out 'The road before them' - 'They walked until the sun went down'.

Stardate 2261.67. 1425 hours. KL interviewing STS.

S’chn T’gai Spock shows no outward emotion when he is informed that the Council of Vulcan voted against the quarantine decision, although he tells me that the information is as was expected. Kirk’s second in command and a distinguished graduate of Starfleet Academy, he is the only child of a Vulcan diplomat of the house of T’Pau and a Canadian teacher and linguist named Amanda, one of the precious few humans to have gained Vulcan citizenship. Their home, that neither Spock nor Amanda have visited since the outbreak, is in ShiKahr, the place of Spock’s birth. His father, Sarek, is en route from Vulcan, but it is obvious that there will yet be some delay before the family is reunited, due to the rigorous medical checks required for admission to Terra. All attempts to speak with him regarding his emotions are skilfully evaded.

So you weren’t scared when the outbreak began?

_[Spock stares flatly at me, and I almost retract my question in the lengthy silence that follows.]_

STS: _[slowly, as one might speak to a small child]_ Vulcans do not feel fear.

But you are only half-Vulcan.

_[Again, that neutral stare. I decide to change the subject.]_

Tell me about your actions after a state of emergency was declared.

STS: A state of emergency was _not_ declared. It was obvious that some form of pandemic was occurring, and yet in the little time before society disintegrated in its entirety, the authorities did not provide us with any guidance whatsoever.

Why, then, did you not go back to Vulcan?

 _[I am staring directly at him as I ask, and it is only because of this that I see a flicker of_ something _pass over his face.]_

STS: Because of my mother. She was the lead speaker at a conference concerning the universal translator, and when I had made contact with her, she refused to leave it. She believed that her role was crucial in persuading the other delegates to make a particular improvement.

But surely she must have realised that she was in danger?

STS: The situation was significantly worse in San Francisco than in Des Moines. Iowa is not densely populated, as my Captain has often stated. The virus did not seem as much of a threat as it did in California, and by the time I had begun to persuade her of the danger, the communication and transporter networks were shut down. As I could not ascertain her safety from a distance, I decided to travel to Des Moines.

Along with Nyota Uhura, is that correct?

STS: Yes.

Were you two in a relationship?

_[Perhaps this question is not essential for the record, but I will admit to curiosity. Spock shakes his head.]_

Isn’t it a little odd that you were travelling with a student? There was no relationship at all?

STS: There was not. _[hesitantly]_ I was aware of a certain… ardour… on Nyota’s part. I did not share her attraction, and that issue has long since been resolved. We are both now engaged in alternative relationships, and I know that she is contented.

_[This is news to me.]_

You have a partner? Is she a part of the Enterprise crew?

STS: He is.

 _Ah._ So… why did you travel with Nyota?

STS: The great majority of her family reside in Kenya, and those who do not were either unreachable or distant relations. She made it clear that she wished to come with me, and I did not object because she was the first person to seem to enjoy spending time with me. She was the first person that I could call friend.

But not the last.

STS: No. _[his gaze flicks to the only door, behind which I am certain Jim is waiting.]_ Not the last.

* * *

The music auditorium had, until now, been the logical place for them to remain. While Spock had desperately – and unsuccessfully - attempted to persuade his mother of the imminent danger that she was in, its structural integrity and its remote location on campus had afforded them a certain amount of security. Now, however, the Federation had imposed a quarantine, and with it, had disabled a great number of valuable devices by disrupting satellite signals. The communication network had failed that morning, and now he could no longer contact his mother. That was unacceptable. Nyota, with whom he had retreated when the main campus had become uninhabitable, had listened to him assert his intentions, and had insisted that she would also make the journey to Des Moines. Although he had been prepared to go alone, her presence would not be unwelcome.

As they gathered the belongings that they would need for the journey, Spock closed the lid of the black baby grand that sat by the corner of the stage. He had come here often to play, particularly at the beginning of his Starfleet career, when companionship had eluded him. Music had been a source of solace, and one which, on the surface, was appropriate for a Vulcan. Dust had already begun to settle on the surface of the piano, a fine coating on its waxy surface, and Spock wished to protect the keys within. Though it was illogical, to look at the beginnings of its ruin left an odd sense of regret settling in his stomach, alongside which a silent, secret worry for his mother pulsed. His eyes roved over the sculpted columns, high, arched ceiling and gilded doorframes before him, committing the room to perfect memory as he took hold of the rucksack he had filled with necessary items and hefted it onto his back.

‘Spock, you can’t carry all that. It’s not fair.’

Nyota folded her arms, standing up straight, but Spock could see by the angle of her shoulders that she was already suffering under the substantial weight of her pack.

‘I have three times the strength of a human male,’ he reminded her, though even he found his own backpack a burden. ‘It is logical for me to carry the greatest proportion of our supplies.’

‘Everything you want to do is _logical,’_ she huffed, kicking him softly on the shin, then staggering as she lost her balance. Spock steadied her, eyes narrowing as he focused on the reanimated corpses visible through the stained glass window of the music auditorium. The first time he had named them so, Nyota had insisted on shortening his designation to ‘Reacs’. Spock did not understand the human preoccupation with so-called ‘nicknames’. There were few of the unfortunate creatures milling around on the gravel driveway outside, but he knew that they would have to expose themselves to many more on the way to Des Moines. With foresight, in addition to the phaser and charger he had secreted upon his person, he had kept his lirpa within a reasonable distance, and now he strapped it alongside the heavy pack in a position where he knew he could remove it in less than a second. As a child on Vulcan, bullied, ostracised, alone, he had honed his fighting skills alongside those of music, pushing to excel in ways his classmates could not. He took no pleasure in violence, and yet self-defence had often been his salvation – as it would be now. He would use what skill he possessed to get to his mother. She was resourceful, and she would live; Spock would accept no alternative.

‘So… are we going to jack a hovercar?’ Nyota asked, fiddling with the catch of her phaser holster.

Spock shook his head.

‘They will not function without extensive intervention, and I have neither the knowledge nor the time to attempt it.’

Nyota frowned, blowing her hair out of her eyes.

‘How are we going to get there then?’

‘We walk,’ Spock said simply, the answer obvious to him. ‘The only forms of transportation that may work are old land cars and bicycles. If we come across bicycles then they will be useful to us, but I will not waste time searching for vehicles that may not exist in San Francisco.’

Nyota nodded, eyes wide with shock.

‘If you do not wish to-’

‘Oh, I wish to,’ she interrupted, reaching out to touch his hand. He flinched infinitesimally from the attraction that filtered through to him, drawing his hand back slowly. Nyota was his friend, nothing more. Disappointment flickered across her face, replaced almost immediately by an uneasy smile. ‘I just didn’t think we’d be walking, that’s all. How long will it take us to get there?’

‘A month and a half, perhaps,’ Spock murmured, unable to calculate accurately due to the sheer number of confounding variables.

‘Wow. Okay. And your mom?’

‘She will be waiting,’ Spock asserted, checking that they had all that they needed in the short-term for the final time. ‘We must go.’

Nyota nodded, smoothing a hand over her hair, scraped back into a tight bun for obvious reasons. She stared forlornly at the belongings she would have to leave behind, those she had dragged from her dorm room in the little time they had – clothing, jewellery, trinkets from family and friends – all obviously precious to her. Spock himself had few personal possessions on Terra, and those that he did have, he was content to abandon. His mother was all that he wished for, and he _would_ find her alive and well. With a minute gesture to Nyota, he made his way towards the door that led out onto the driveway, drawing his phaser from its holster. He came to a stop just beside one of the tall, thin windows and peered out at the three corpses within the auditorium grounds. Two were human male cadets in their uniforms, bloody faces suggesting a recent feed, while the third was a young Tellarite, her upturned nose conspicuously absent, a gaping hole left behind. Beyond the driveway was a quiet suburban street, no movement visible as of yet. Nyota’s breath came hot and quick with fear against the nape of Spock’s neck, discomforting him. He turned and backed away slightly to avoid the prickle of emotion that she unwittingly broadcasted, hand coming to rest on the door release.

‘We must go,’ he repeated in a whisper, unaware of quite how sensitive their hearing was. Nyota nodded firmly, her palpable, creeping fear hidden behind a mask of bravado. They left their temporary haven in absolute silence, and yet the gravel, unavoidable as it was, was bound to attract attention. With the first soft _crunch_ of Spock’s foot on the driveway, three heads snapped unnaturally fast towards them, and three sets of uncoordinated legs forced themselves into motion. Before the closer cadets could come within five metres of them, Spock had shot them on stun, but upon finding that unsuccessful, switched the phaser to kill, and repeated his actions. Taking his example, Nyota fired at the Tellarite, first at its protruding stomach, then at its head, drawing in a shaky breath as it fell to the floor, still.

‘They’re- I-’ she stuttered, the hand that held her phaser trembling, but there was no time for a moral crisis now. Pushing aside his own well of sadness and guilt, Spock urged her to keep moving, the noise that their feet made as they dashed across the gravel drawing several other unwanted witnesses. He did not fire unless they were within critical range, both his dissatisfaction with taking another’s life, and the deterioration of phaser charge in mind. As they ran towards what seemed to be abandoned housing, the immediate danger tailed off, and when the last visible reanimated corpse was felled by his phaser, he led them to a stop by an open garage. Under the cool shade cast by the door, Nyota gasped in heavy lungfuls of air, and Spock shivered, his temperature dropping below comfortable levels.

‘Jesus, that was scary,’ she said breathlessly, a finger tugging at the collar of her t-shirt. ‘Were you not scared?’

He did not say what he would have habitually said - that ‘Vulcans do not feel fear’ - because the terror gnawing at his stomach told him otherwise.

‘I am… uneasy,’ he settled on, eyes firmly on the quiet street before them. There was a shift in the foliage in the garden opposite, but the movement only revealed a limping, shaggy-haired dog, rabbit in its jaws. He let his phaser drop again.

‘Uneasy? Okay, whatever you say,’ Nyota snorted, hitching up her backpack. ‘Do you know which way to go?’

Spock nodded absently, watching the dog make its slow way down the street, its prize trailing along the ground as it walked. He hoped that it would heal quickly. He hated to see animals suffer.

‘I have memorised the journey between here and Des Moines,’ he told her. ‘If we become diverted from our path, there is a map upon my person.’

Nyota had caught her breath now, and he was itching to leave again, every second wasted on rest becoming another second of delay. His feet shifted, and Nyota looked up from where she was examining the worktop just inside the doorway.

‘You want to go now?’

‘Yes,’ Spock said, thankful for her perceptiveness. ‘I wish to arrive in Des Moines as soon as possible.’

She took a quick swig of water from the bottle she had stuffed into a side pocket, then replaced it, and gestured out into the street.

‘Lead the way, then.’

He did so without another word. The panic that waxed and waned behind the shields of his mind was an unfamiliar sensation, and he was not sure if it was due to his own lack of safety, or a secondary emotion related to his uncertainty about his mother. Anxiety was not a natural state for him, having been taught very early on to control his nerves when they had manifested themselves in the hostile environment of the learning centre. Now, however, he felt his breathing begin to elevate as increasingly pessimistic scenarios played within his mind, and he had to work hard to bring his oxygen intake back down to acceptable levels. The road before them, dotted sparsely with ordinary detached homes, was eerily silent, and so too was the surrounding area. They met with few problems as they went, apart from one memorable encounter with what might have been a family gorging on their fallen father. Nyota had shot them all before Spock could assess whether they were a danger or not, gagging, and holding up a hand to quell his admonishment.

They walked until the sun went down at 1955, by which time Nyota was walking within a metre of him, clearly rendered anxious by the encroaching darkness. Spock indulged her for a while, but as visibility worsened, and he felt the cold acutely even after he had put on an extra layer, he finally admitted defeat. They still had options in suburbia, and he chose a small, two-storey house with doors wide open, expecting that its previous inhabitants would have vacated the premises. Still, he entered with his phaser raised, offering to search the upstairs if Nyota searched the ground floor. Exhausted after the long day’s travel, she seemed only too happy to oblige. Despite the logical reasoning for his choice, Spock still experienced some trepidation as he ascended the stairs, dark wood polished to a shine. The first room he checked was spotless, and thankfully empty, but as he worked his way down the corridor, he could sense the panic that this family must have experienced, seeing what had been left behind.

The upstairs bathroom, surfaces showroom-clean, had pill bottles and towels scattered all over the floor, cupboard doors left carelessly open with bottles of shampoo and shower gel spilling down the sides. In what might have been the master bedroom, clothes had been ripped out of drawers, a communicator charger hanging half out of its socket, but it was the next room that gave Spock pause. The door had been pulled to, and when he pushed it slowly open, the grating noise of squeaking hinges was lost on him as he stared at the brightly-coloured mural painted on the opposite wall. His throat tightened reflexively at the sight of an abandoned teddy bear, obviously old and well-loved, lying on the floor. The low bed was unmade, its wooden sides carved and coloured to look like a starship. A toy box was tipped over in the far right corner, and within the mess, Spock could see several of the latest overpriced figurines that he had seen advertised on the holovision. The child must have wanted for nothing. Out of place as it was, the bear continued to draw his eye, so he picked it up and placed it on the bed amongst the other stuffed toys. He was just turning to leave when another oddity caught his eye. He leaned closer to the bed, his mask of neutrality slipping slightly as his fingers traced the name ‘Freddie’ carved inelegantly into the wood. Had Freddie survived the flight of his family? Spock knew that he should not allow himself to care, but his emotions, though rigorously controlled, were simply not suppressible at their source.

Swallowing against the sudden thickness in his throat, Spock backed out of the room and closed the door on the memory of a child that was likely lost. Having now checked all of the upstairs rooms, he took to the staircase, his eyes narrowing as he heard the faint sound of uneven, hitching breath. Though he was sure that Nyota would have called for help in the event of an emergency, he had not known her to be prone to tears. He rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, his hearing guiding him, until he came across her in an open doorway, a shaking hand covering her mouth.

‘What is the matter?’

She started at his voice, then pointed into the room, the skin beneath her eyes blotchy and swollen. Spock sidestepped her to see inside, at which point his stomach lurched dangerously. In the centre of the room was a crib, a sight which would have been perfectly innocuous had the bedding inside it not been saturated with blood.

‘There’s no baby,’ Nyota said, voice thick with tears, as he ventured forwards. ‘But look.’

Her finger traced through the air, and Spock followed it to a blood trail on the floor that thinned out as it reached the doorway. When he looked further, he could see a few small spatters outside of the room, but nothing more.

‘One of those _things_ snatched up a fucking baby,’ Nyota snarled, trembling with an anger that Spock knew was not directed at him. He did not reply, the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat as he stared at the blood-soaked blanket, pastel blue and monogrammed ‘JM’ in the corner. Nyota was sobbing in earnest now, but he could not bring himself to comfort her, consumed with his own startling anguish. Without thought, he stepped forward until he stood over the crib and carefully pulled the untarnished corner of the blanket straight, smoothing the wrinkles from the fabric. Then, with a great heaviness in his chest, he guided Nyota from the room and shut the door. They would stay for the night, and leave this house of ghosts in the morning.

‘Have you checked the other rooms?’ he asked.

She nodded, running the back of her hand swiftly across her eyes. ‘Nothing.’

Spock tilted his head in acknowledgement, considering their options.

‘Perhaps it would be best to eat food from the cupboards tonight,’ he suggested quietly. ‘We need not diminish our supplies.’

Again, she nodded, conspicuous in her silence. Her hair had long since begun falling out of its neat confinement, and now loops of it covered the top of her ears, the bun resting against the nape of her neck. As she maintained her quiet, Spock turned on his heel and rounded the staircase, making for the kitchen he had seen when they had entered. He heard Nyota fall into place behind him, still sniffling a little. He understood her emotionalism, having experienced his own distress, but he could not deny that it made him uncomfortable to see her display it so openly – as it did when he saw any other human apart from his mother emoting. A childhood on Vulcan may have instilled in him many virtues, but it had also created a great sense of inadequacy due to his ‘half-breed’ status. Anything human within had been repressed to a frenzied degree in a vain attempt to be accepted by those who considered him a stain on Vulcan society, and though it shamed him to recall the way he had shunned his mother as a child, it remained difficult to accept that part of himself which she had passed on. Seeing others emote without chastisement and ostracism – though he knew it to be natural on Terra – was unsettling.

The kitchen was fitted with cabinets of the same dark wood as the staircase, immaculately finished, and while it was a small room, a table with four chairs around it was pushed against a wall. An empty mug lay on the counter, coffee stains within, and a top cupboard was ajar, displaying bottles and unnecessarily winding straws alongside wine glasses and plastic cups. A padd hung on the wall, displaying the weekly calendar. Spock avoided looking at it.

‘They don’t have a replicator – if one would even work - but they have lots of canned stuff,’ Nyota said softly, crouching down in front of one of the cupboards, her hand resting on the open door. ‘I’m going to have some mac and cheese, I think.’

Spock winced internally at her choice, but made no remark. When she moved away to empty the can into a saucepan, he crouched to make his own selection. After perusing the neat lines of tin, he eventually settled on lentil soup, and set his own pan on the hob just as Nyota was pouring her meal out into a bowl.

‘This is so strange,’ she whispered, quietly enough that a human would have not been able to hear her. Uncertain as to whether he should reply, Spock turned to her while he stirred his soup, but she had already moved over to the table, and slumped down in one of the chairs.

‘The situation is somewhat unprecedented,’ he offered. Nyota did not answer. She began eating in silence, dull eyes fixing blankly on the calendar that Spock was sure she could not read at such a distance. In the absence of conversation, Spock procured a bowl and prepared his own meal, perching uncertainly on the chair diagonally across from her. It creaked under his weight as he sat, and Nyota flinched, eyes refocusing first on him, then on her macaroni. The meal was conducted in silence.

It was not until an hour later that she spoke again, when they were laying their sleeping bags out in the lounge.

‘Do you want the fire on?’ she asked, unzipping hers so as to serve as a blanket while she slept on the sofa. ‘You must be cold.’

He was, but he had thought to bring an extra blanket for warmth. Furthermore, the house did have central heating, as he had discovered when he had found the environmental controls in the hallway. He told Nyota as much, who shrugged.

‘Fine. You… you alright with me sleeping on the sofa? I mean, I could sleep on the floor with you.’

Spock shook his head. He would welcome the space.

‘I am fine,’ he said. Such a misleading phrase. Nyota shrugged and lay back on top of the sleeping bag, one leg bent, the other straight out.

Spock had turned his attention to their phasers when she began, ‘How far do you think this has spread?’

‘I do not know,’ he answered, setting both into their wireless chargers, grateful for his decision to bring two. ‘I am unaware of the virus’ origin, R-0, and all but one form of transmission, if it is even a virus at all. However, considering the speed at which San Francisco fell, and the fact that quarantine has been imposed by the Federation, I would estimate that it will soon become a global pandemic, if it has not already.’

He did not notice the effect of his words until his speech had concluded, by which time Nyota was staring at him, stricken. Her eyes had filled with tears once more, and it was difficult for him not to look away.

‘I have upset you,’ he murmured. It was not a question, but she shook her head nonetheless, shifting her gaze to the ceiling and blinking hard.

‘No, Spock,’ she denied, her consonants softened under the weight of tears. ‘Goddammit!’

In one sudden movement, her hand smacked hard against the unyielding fabric of the sofa, the sound not dissimilar to knuckles coming into contact with a strike pad. Spock almost flinched, his body going rigid in the effort to not allow himself that weakness – not that it would have mattered, as Nyota’s attention was still on the ceiling.

‘I just keep thinking about my family, you know? It’s not exactly the dark ages in Kenya, but it’s not San Francisco, and if _this_ city fell apart, what chance in hell has my family got in Kitui? It’s so densely populated, and my parents haven’t got a mansion to seal themselves in like people do in the Westlands.’

‘It is entirely possible that they still live,’ Spock said earnestly, uncertain about how best to reassure her without giving her false hope. ‘Kitui may not be affected like San Francisco.’

‘But that’s just it, Spock! We don’t know.My parents could be one of those- those _cannibals,_ and I wouldn’t know it. I still have hope, and that’s the worst thing.’

She threw her hands up in the air, then let gravity slowly take them back to her sides. Spock considered her words with a pit in his stomach, his earlier fear for his mother coming roaring back to life. Hope was dangerous, and yet it seemed the most difficult of emotions to suppress.

‘Indeed,’ he muttered, his hands folding neatly in his lap. Nyota did not seem to notice his disquiet, consumed within her own desperate spiral of misery.

‘I mean, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of our lives? It’s like hide and seek, only you never want to be found.’

Spock had no real answers for her, but her pessimism was beginning to amplify his. His shields, already bowed under the strain of the emotions which resulted from this desperate situation, suffered further under the onslaught of anguish which Nyota was projecting. Subtly, Spock began shifting away from her, muscles relaxing a little as the palpability of her emotions faded.

‘This is likely a temporary situation,’ he said quietly, attempting to console her for both their sakes. ‘Whether for better or for worse, I am sure that it will change at some point, and we must be prepared for that. Our short-term goal is to locate my mother. Beyond that, I do not know. However, I do know that it is of paramount importance that we face those difficulties that surface with logic and calm.’

At first, Nyota stared at him with an unreadable expression. Then her lips curved into a gentle smile, her eyes softening, and Spock winced internally at the obvious attraction behind it.

Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, he interjected – ‘It would be beneficial for you to sleep now, in order to attain as much rest as possible before we leave tomorrow.’

‘Oh,’ Nyota replied, disappointment flashing briefly across her face. ‘Okay. Are you going to wake me up to keep watch?’

‘There is no need. I have rewired the security system so that if movement is detected in the vicinity of either door, I will receive an alert through the environmental controls. If any threat arises, I will be prepared.’

‘Fine by me. Are you going to sleep yet?’

‘My body does not require as much sleep as a human’s does,’ Spock reminded her, watching as she enveloped herself in the sleeping bag, tucking it in around her feet at the corners. ‘I will continue to examine the communicators.’

Nyota made an unclear sound of acknowledgement, turning so that she faced the back of the sofa.

‘Night then,’ she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric.

‘… Goodnight.’

True to his word, Spock began to take apart his communicator when the room fell silent, but he did not have much faith in his ability to return its functionality. The Federation Council, whilst staffed with a number of incompetents, had access to personnel who knew significantly more about electronics than Spock did. However, when Nyota’s breath evened out in sleep, he stood, abandoning the communicator in pieces, and leaving the room with careful footsteps on the not-altogether-silent floorboards. Since the crisis had begun, he had felt a pressing need to meditate, and yet Nyota, frightened and in need of comfort, had been unwilling to leave his side. Meditation was a private affair. Until now, only with his parents had he allowed himself to be so vulnerable, allowed his shields to fall. He hoped that one day he might find a compatible bondmate with whom to share the experience, along with his life, but it seemed increasingly unlikely. Too emotional for Vulcans, not emotional _enough_ for humans, the situation was dire even without the added collapse of society around him. For now, he was alone.

Bypassing the closed door of the nursery, Spock took the handle of the next door along in hand, searching for a place in which he could concentrate. Opening it yielded a small study, containing merely a desk, chair, bookcase, and a computer terminal with a dark screen. Spock did not attempt to switch it on. Having repeatedly tested the terminals in the music auditorium, he knew that it would not function. On the floor in the centre of the room, there was a spiral-patterned rug, and once he had shut the door behind him, Spock sat cross-legged upon it. It was not made of the same material as a typical meditation mat, and there were no incense candles around him, but the space would suffice. He had come into the room in total darkness, his eyes sensitive enough that he could see in the windowless room, yet total darkness was not desirable for meditation.

‘Lights, ten percent,’ he ordered, the illumination gentle enough that it did not strain his vision. It took longer than usual to calm his breathing, consciously slowing his heartbeat alongside so that the sluggish pulse in his wrists resembled that of a human. More than once, his homeostasis wavered as thoughts of the virus intruded. He chastised himself severely, and in time, he gained the necessary equilibrium to begin. His eyes closed.

The shields within his mind were intact and holding, but they were weakened by the emotion that had battered against them from either side. Their fragility was concerning, but not entirely unfamiliar. The thoughts and memories that had contributed to the weakness of his shields required attention, and so Spock immersed himself in them, compartmentalising his emotions. Thoughts of his mother dominated, his blind panic and fear for her safety almost overwhelming in their intensity, and yet he knew that it was essential to control those fears if he was to locate her. He would require all of his skill and concentration in the search. Besides the concern relating to his mother, he also worried for his father, presumably still on Vulcan without either of them. Though their relationship may have been uneasy on occasion, Spock knew that Sarek cared for them, whether or not he could call it love. Spock loved his father. He had long regarded the emotion as an aberration, but he could not deny its existence. He hoped that Sarek had objected to the quarantine decision, if not for the sake of the humans, then for himself and his mother. Beyond the feelings tied to his parents, Spock had little trouble sorting through what remained. There endured a fear for his own safety, and that of Nyota, but it paled in comparison to the maelstrom that had come before. Once his task was completed, he surfaced from his meditative state with a new serenity. It had been two point three five hours.

He stood gracefully, the weight that had settled so heavily upon him in recent days having lightened considerably. Despite the gravity of the situation, his mind was more ordered, and he felt better equipped to deal with any difficulties which might arise. Silently, he made his way back into the living room. Nyota was sprawled out on the sofa, her eyes moving under their lids in REM sleep, and Spock retook his place next to the fireplace. Surer hands returned to the pieces of the communicator he had abandoned. Though he could not repair it, he would put it back together in preparation for when someone could. Then he would sleep. Ignoring Nyota as she mumbled incomprehensibly, he began his methodical task, pulling a blanket over his shoulders for warmth.

At 0700 precisely, he woke. The sun filtered through the fabric of the curtains, bathing the floor beneath the window in soft, warm light. Were he human, it might have annoyed him. As it was, he had planned his awakening for this hour. Nyota groaned as she began to stir, her final sleep cycle coming to an end, but before she could open her eyes, Spock drifted through into the kitchen. They would require nourishment for the long day ahead. As he opened two cans of fruit salad, Nyota came stumbling in, yawning. Her hair was messy on one side.

‘Will the shower work?’ is how she greeted him, slumping in last night’s chair as he brought the bowls across. ‘The taps do.’

‘The shower will also,’ Spock replied, spearing a sliced peach on his fork.

‘There’s another bathroom down here, so I’ll take that one if you don’t mind. There’s a sonic hairdryer in there.’

Spock didn’t reply, assuming that his silence would be affirmation enough.

‘I’ve been thinking…’ she continued, putting a hand to her mouth as she swallowed, ‘about what you said last night, I mean. You were right - there’s no good in panicking, even if I can’t help it sometimes. I’m going to try and keep positive. We don’t know what’s happening in Kenya.’

Spock nodded. He rose from his seat, having eaten his fill, and took his bowl to the sink.

‘After I have showered, I will begin collecting more cans to take with us. We do not know if we will always have adequate nourishment. Meet me in here when you are ready to depart.’

‘Okay.’

Spock left her to her melon and ascended the stairs back to the messy bathroom. He did not require cleansing as often as a human did, as he produced no sweat, but the uncertainty that lay ahead of them meant that he would take what chance he had. When he examined the shower, he was relieved to find that there was a sonic setting, as he much preferred it to water. Stripping off his dirty clothing, he stepped into the shower, beginning a sonic program. He closed his eyes as the gentle waves passed over him, filtering through his hair, cleaning away what dirt he had attracted during their escape. The end of the cycle was almost disappointing, with the possibility that he might not have access to another shower for a long time. For a brief moment, he had also gained a little respite from the constant worry that plagued him, but as he stepped out and into the fresh dark clothes he had brought with him, thoughts of his parents returned. He would have to devote extra effort to strengthening his shields.

When he returned to the kitchen, Nyota was gone. He could hear her singing in the shower, a melodic nonsense tune that was pleasing to his ears. Spock put his clothes into the washing machine and began a wash/dry cycle, before returning to the cupboards, selecting cans to put in his pack. He wouldn’t be able to carry much more than he already was, but he would bear what weight he must if it meant that they would not starve.

‘That’s _so_ much better,’ Nyota announced, as she re-entered the room, dirty clothes in hand. As Spock’s clothes had been cleansed, she passed them to him, and replaced them with her own. ‘Do you think there will be any more stop-off points?’

‘We will be travelling relatively close to settlements, but there is the possibility that we may not always have such a comfortable shelter,’ Spock told her, moving to fill his bag with the cans as she scraped her hair into a bun.

Nyota followed him back into the living room after the washing machine beeped, looking rather brighter than yesterday – in demeanour, not clothing. She had taken his lead on wearing dark colours, and trousers that were easy to move in.

‘Are we ready to go then?’

Spock nodded, barely repressing a wince as he dragged his backpack onto his shoulders, glad for the durability of the material. As Nyota did the same, he began leading the way towards the front door, and looked through the peephole within it. Outside, the street was as empty as the day before, but Spock was still on high alert when he stepped over the threshold, a hand hovering over the phaser in his belt. Nyota cautiously followed, having just descended the steps when her hand shot out and gripped his arm.

‘Spock, look!’ she squeaked, and in an instant, his phaser was out and trained on nothing, eyes scanning their surroundings with grim intent. ‘No, no, look!’

Her tone sounded more cheery than perhaps it should have done, and when Spock followed her finger, he realised why. Abandoned on the ground outside a house a few doors away were two bicycles, large enough for adults, and seemingly in good condition. Nyota thumped his arm in excitement. He found that he could not admonish her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! Today, I finished the last exam for my undergraduate degree, meaning that if all has gone well, I have BSc after my name. While that means I'm now lacking a full time job, and also friends that are moving back home, it's great news for you guys! I'm going to try my absolute best to update every two weeks, but I have a job interview on Monday, so if I get it, we'll see how that affects my writing. Anyway, really hope you enjoyed this chapter - I do love writing as Spock - and feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Those Who Wander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's pretty gore-free, but some of you might want to avoid 'At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary' to 'Eli"'.

Stardate 2261.69. 0930 hours. KL interviewing NU.

Nyota Uhura, Communications Officer, crosses one leg over the other as she sinks gracefully into the chair provided for her. Born in 2233, in Kitui County, Kenya, she entered Starfleet with proficiency in a dozen Federation and non-Federation languages, and has since become skilled in yet more. Indeed, she has impressed a number of my colleagues by greeting them in their native language. Her face shows little wear despite the strain these last years must have put upon her, dark-skinned and smooth, her features harsh and beautiful. The cool expression she wears is not unexpected, considering the role that the Federation Council had in quarantining Terra. It is possible that she blames those of us who escaped that most terrible fate for the death of her parents, since named as M’Umbha and Alhamisi. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, I begin with a question about relationships.

NU: Who am I _with?_ Is that what you care the most about? _[There is a definite curl to her lip now, and resentment in her tone]._ Did you ask the boys about their love lives, or is that restricted to women only?

I did speak briefly to Spock about it.

NU: Bet he shot you down. He’s a private person.

That he is. I meant no offence, Miss Uhura.

_[She sighs, briefly closing her eyes.]_

NU: It’s fine. Well, it’s not, but… _[They open again.]_ If you’re really that interested, Scotty and I are in a relationship. He’s the chief engineer of the Enterprise, and a genius to boot.

_[Her expression softens as she speaks of him, mouth twitching as if a smile is constrained only by her wish to remain stoic.]_

I have heard that Lieutenant Commander Scott solved many of the initial problems that you faced in San Francisco.

NU: Yes, he did. Monty’s indispensable, that’s for sure. Mind you, most of us have been at some point.

Talk to me about the journey to Des Moines. It must have been frightening.

NU: Everything was frightening. I was frightened, Spock was frightened, even if he wouldn’t admit it. For the first week or so, we were close enough to civilisation that we could sleep in houses, but then there were more and more Reacs as we came to denser population areas. We had a few close calls. Spock’s ear nearly got bitten off by one when we were taking a break and suddenly got mobbed. _[She shakes her head minutely.]_ It took a while to convince him that it was _logical_ to avoid the cities though.

Why?

NU: Well, he wanted to get to his mom, of course. Going straight through would have been the quickest way, but it would also have got us killed. The last straw came when we hit Carson City and a mob would have pulled my bike apart if Spock hadn’t been so quick with his phaser.

So you put your foot down.

NU: Let’s just say he started listening to me a little more after we had to clean viscera off the spokes of my bike to get it going again.

And afterwards?

NU: _[snorts]_ We took the ‘scenic’ route, shall we say. Of course, Spock knew where he was going even in the middle of nowhere. There were fewer Ferals, fewer humans, fewer everything. There was sometimes the odd farmhouse, but we got more cautious after we tried the door of one and nearly got blown to bits by a farmer and his shotgun. Most of the time we pitched up tents and took shifts to sleep.

You were never attacked?

NU: Surprisingly rarely. There was the odd Reac to pick off in the distance, but that was easily done. No, the only real problem came when – well – _[she flushes, hands twisting in her lap]_ I fell asleep on watch once.

* * *

 

 What eventually forced her tired eyes open was not the rising sun, nor the birds singing at dawn, but the mechanical whir of bike pedals. There was a blurry moment of disorientation, a half-awakening, in which she reached, confused, for a duvet that was not there. Then she remembered where she was. Nyota bolted upright, so quickly that she went dizzy, a fine, misty spray of dirt falling from where it had been embedded in her cheek. A short, dark-haired man in a flannel shirt was passing by her, a handlebar grasped in each hand as he led the bikes away.  
  
---  
  
‘Hey!’ she cried, her voice cracking with the remnants of sleep. The man turned, the bikes crashing noisily to the ground as he tore a long knife from his belt and lunged for her, blade flashing in the sunlight. ‘Spock!’

Her clumsy fingers scrabbled uselessly for her phaser, and she scrambled backwards in fear as they found nothing, the wild-eyed man slashing at the air in front of her, so close that she felt a breeze in the baking heat. The tent rustled behind her, and just as the knife nicked her cheek painfully, she found herself grabbed and turned with rough hands. The blade pressed hard into her throat. In front of her, Spock’s raised phaser arm dropped a little, eyes flickering analytically over the scene. Even amidst the terror, she sagged a little in relief.

‘Let her go,’ Spock ordered, inflectionless even in her panic.

‘As if you’re in any position to make demands, freak!’

The blade pressed ever harder, and her throat yielded to its razor edge, stinging sharp and painful as her skin split. She felt warm blood trickle down to her clavicle.

‘I-I need those bikes! I’m taking ‘em!’

‘Those bicycles belong to us,’ Spock replied evenly. ‘They are not yours to take.’

‘So fuckin’ what?’ The knife cut deeper, and Nyota couldn’t repress a whimper of pain, or fear, or both. ‘I’ve got your girl here – one wrong move and I’ll slit her pretty throat. The fuck are you doing with a human bitch anyway, you emotionless fucker? Maybe I’ll take her too. The guys wouldn’t mind a bit of fresh pussy to go around. The last girl's a bit worn out.’

The knife had slipped as the man spoke, and as he made his last, most terrible threat, Nyota made her move. She brought her arm up hard and knocked away his slackened hand, ducking away from his clumsy flailing as Spock felled him with a phaser blast. In the silence that followed, her heart thundered, gaze unblinking on the fallen man, sprawled in the dirt. Dust rose around him.

‘Was it on stun?’ she asked, unsure of what she wanted the answer to be.

‘Yes.’

The cuts on her throat and face stung. Shaking, she approached the monster which might have killed her, had it not been for Spock. She surveyed his slack expression, pockmarked skin, dusty-kneed jeans, and in one slick movement, pulled her leg back, and kicked him hard in the balls. Again. Again. Rapist. Again. Spock said nothing during her frenzied attack, and when she finally stumbled backwards, vindicated, his face displayed nothing of approval, nor of judgement. In a way, she was disappointed that he hadn’t reacted more to her captivity, or at least, hadn’t reacted in a way that would have assured her that he cared for her romantically. But he was a Vulcan. There was hope yet. Perhaps he just didn’t understand her attraction – a misconception she would remedy in time. Trembling fingers danced over the wound at her throat, flinching back as it smarted on contact. What would have happened if Spock hadn’t woken? Her disappointment turned swiftly to shame.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, raising her eyes to him. ‘I’m sorry, Spock. I fell asleep. That was completely irresponsible of me.’

He dipped his head in acknowledgement.

‘Perhaps it would have been safer for you to have woken me when you felt weary,’ he suggested, a tinge of judgement in his otherwise neutral tone. Her face burned. Good friend that he was, there was no one like Spock to make you regret all of your human weaknesses.

‘Sorry,’ she repeated.

‘Apologies are unnecessary. However, I do believe that we should move swiftly on. If this man spoke the truth, then there may be a group of criminals nearby. Are you in pain?’

‘Not much,’ she replied. The cuts were superficial, even if it hadn’t felt like it when they were administered. ‘I’m okay.’

Another nod. Without further discussion, Spock turned and began dismantling the tent, while Nyota packed up their belongings. As she did so, however, a rather more ominous ache overtook that of her surface wounds. She had felt strange the night before, and now she knew why. Drawing pains had begun pulling at her lower belly, and in despair of her own thoughtlessness, she slammed the clasp of her bag shut. Normally, at the start of every month, she would stick herself with a hypo that stopped her period coming, but in the panic of two weeks before, she hadn’t even considered taking some with her. Now she was paying the price.

‘Shit,’ she hissed, pressing her hand hard against her uterus as it throbbed, the steady pulsing of it not dimming whatsoever.

‘Nyota?’

Spock had packed away the tent at remarkable speed, and now wheeled the bikes back over towards her, his eyebrows in a quizzical ‘v’.

‘It’s nothing- I just… The next house we see, I need to stop at, alright?’

They might not have the right hypos, but they would probably have pads or tampons, as long as a woman lived there.

‘Why?’ Spock asked, taking his seat on the bike, backpack already donned.

‘I forgot to bring my period suppressants,’ she mumbled, lifting her own, considerably lighter, pack. ‘I need tampons or something.’

‘Very well. Are you in need of painkillers also?’

‘Uhh.’

She winced as she got on her own bike. She knew that the discomfort of blood would be there soon, and although she had got used to a certain lack of privacy in the last fortnight, it wasn’t something she wanted to put on display, no matter how natural it was.

‘There is paracetamol in my bag,’ Spock told her, beginning to shift it on his back, but she held up a hand to stop him. Warmth flooded through her chest at his apparent concern, and she smiled through her uneasy squirming.

‘It’s not that bad, don’t worry.’

‘Vulcans do not worry,’ Spock reminded her.

‘Oh, of course. Let’s get going then.’

They sat off in tandem as they always did, Spock ever so slightly ahead so that she knew which way to go. Spock had always been most comfortable with silence, small talk not quite his thing, but he seemed to speak less and less every day now. She knew that he worried for his mother, and rightfully so considering what they had seen, but the constant, weighted quiet was difficult for her. In place of conversation, she found herself thinking of her friends back at the Academy. Gaila hadn’t wanted to leave Earth and return to Orion, despite the impending danger. She had fought so hard to get a place on her course in the first place, and she had been frightened that if she took off, she would never get it back. On the last day before everything went to shit, she had left their dorm with Vina, the other female Orion in their year, to go and find Vina’s brother. She’d promised to come back that night. She never had. Nyota hadn’t allowed herself to think about Gaila until now, hoping that her technical skills and sharp wits had kept her alive. She was the only woman Nyota knew that had managed to maintain an almost constant entourage of males around her – and she was pretty sure that it wasn’t all down to pheromones. God, she missed Gaila. She missed her terrible singing in the shower, and the way she’d cut her hair without a mirror, and her absolute certainty about her place in the world, despite all the shit she got from people who hated her because of her race.

She missed Christine and Janice too. They’d booked a long weekend in Vegas before the exam season started, and she was pretty sure that Christine was going to propose. During a holovid night last term, Christine had drunkenly asked her if she’d like to be a bridesmaid before attempting to chug a bottle of strawberry and lime cider and inhaling half of it. Even though she’d spent the best part of an hour slapping her on the back, watching in disgust as it fizzed out of her nose, it had been a good night. They’d sent her pictures when they’d first arrived, tangled together in a casino, faces bright and beaming, and though she prayed that they were alright, she was at least glad that they were together when the trouble began. She’d do anything to see them again. Hell, she’d do anything to see Kirk, even. He might have been a douche, but he wasn’t as bad as his first impression, and even though she’d yelled at him the last time they met, she kind of missed those baby blues.

Beside her, Spock stared into the distance as he pedalled, arms rigid and back perfectly straight. He hadn’t looked at a map in all the time they had been travelling, but that didn’t concern her. He’d always been brilliant. Even though the loss of her family and friends was a ragged hole in her chest, their uncertain fate pressing on her mind every moment that she was awake, she was glad she was with Spock. Loyal, dependent, fantastically intelligent, he had always been there for her when she needed him, and now he had saved her life. It was no wonder she had become attracted to him with those credentials. It didn’t hurt that he had a gorgeous ass either. Having dropped behind a little, she stared at it until he cocked his head in her direction, and she sped up a little, cheeks flaming. He had his faults, of course, but they were nothing that couldn’t change. His lack of emotion in her presence for example. Sure, he showed a little more than he had when they first met, but she was certain that if they were in a relationship, that would improve. She’d read more than a few ancient texts about Vulcan bonding, and if she’d translated it right, it sounded wonderfully romantic.

They rode for a long time until they saw a house, so long that Nyota’s legs were beginning to shake with the strain of pushing on the pedals, but eventually, there it was. They had come upon a small town by the looks of it, and it couldn’t have come at a better time either. The first gush of wetness between her legs – and not the good kind – had surprised her an hour or so before. It shouldn’t have, seeing as the pain that heralded its arrival had been plaguing her all morning, but it did. As it was, she had reached squirming levels by the time they rocked up in front of the town sign, displaying brightly: ‘Altringham, population 325’. She expected that it was rather less than that now. Two neat rows of houses faced one another across a wide dirt road, and the first that they came to was sprawling and modern, solar panels blinding in their reflection of the bright afternoon sun. Nyota shielded her squinting eyes with a hand, while Spock closed his filmy inner eyelids – which wasn’t creepy at all. Through one of the large bay windows set into the wall facing them, Nyota could see a set of ornaments in the shape of ballet dancers on a mantelpiece. In a town like this, she was willing to bet that a woman had lived in that house.

‘Let’s try this one,’ she suggested, her voice rough with disuse. Before Spock could respond, she slid awkwardly off her bike seat, legs bowed a little, and set the bike against the stairs that led up to the porch. She glanced back to see if he had followed her – which, of course, he had – and then climbed the stairs, the dull thud of boots on wood too loud for the silence that surrounded them. Just before the door, she stopped, and Spock nearly crashed into her. As she turned, he stepped backwards quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent her hand catching against his, cool skin coming into delicious contact with her own. It had been an accident, but he flinched nonetheless. Her heart sank.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, torn between the guilty thrill of touching him skin-on-skin, and disappointment in his reaction. She drew her phaser, the fingers of the other hand hovering over the keypad beside the door. Open access, thank God. They wouldn’t have to waste time fiddling with it. ‘You ready?’

Spock nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. She let her finger fall on the smudged screen, and the door slid open soundlessly. Without a word, she began a search of the ground floor and Spock went for the stairs, having done this enough times now that they had settled into a routine. Heart pounding in an almost painful rhythm, she swept each room with her weapon raised in trembling hands, hyper-aware of every shifting shadow and ticking clock. When at last she had ascertained that there was no one, dead or otherwise, downstairs, she allowed herself to breathe freely again.

‘Spock?’ she called, trudging upstairs in the search of a bathroom. He emerged from a door on the landing, allowing it to crack open only just enough to let himself out.

‘It would be best for you not to enter that room.’

‘Why? Is there one in there?’

‘There is not,’ Spock asserted. His mouth hung open for a moment more, but no more words came out. Nyota frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. Still nothing.

‘Will you go downstairs while I sort myself out, please?’ she asked, knowing that she would soon be waddling if she didn’t clean up. ‘The kitchen looks well-stocked.’

‘Of course.’

As soon as the words had left his lips, he was moving, descending the stairs with rapid, even footsteps. It was typical of him not to linger. She hadn’t asked which door led to the bathroom, but she made an educated guess based on the cheerful sign hanging in the centre of one, reading ‘Mesdames/Messieurs’ in swirly calligraphic print. She found that she was correct when she pressed the door release, and wilted in relief as she noticed a stockpile of tampons in a basket by the sink. Once she was sure that the door had closed behind her, she let her pack fall with a thud, and gingerly stripped off from the waist down, cringing as she saw how much blood had collected in her underwear. It was stained and clotted on the flimsy material, smeared across her upper thighs, and she was thankful for embarrassment’s sake that she had chosen to wear dark pants that day. She was also thankful that the lady who had lived her was apparently a hoarder of sanitary products, and after she’d cleared away the blood and inserted a tampon, she piled packets of them into her bag. Giving her underwear up for loss, she balled up the material and threw it back into the empty basket, feeling much more comfortable than before.

The enigmatic room that Spock had told her not to enter played on her mind as she left the bathroom, and although she knew that she should probably heed his warning, her curiosity got the better of her. Dragging her weighty backpack along the floor to rest against the banisters, she listened to make sure Spock was still downstairs, and pressed the door release. Big mistake. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, but a faint, foul smell was curling around her, and as she turned her head to the left, her lungs temporarily stopped working. In the corner of the room, curled up like a comma, lay a dead man, blood dried in a pool beneath him. Nyota recoiled, the back of her hand pressing against her nose as the smell grew sharper. She could see now that at least one of his wrists were slit – or rather, the skin from wrist to elbow was, straight up in a thick red line. He wore a dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, his blond hair slicked back, as if he had been going to a wedding, not his death. She took a few hesitant steps forward, then a few more, unable to look away. The ordinary kitchen knife, blade coloured claret at its long, serrated edge, was tucked up against his chest. A folded piece of paper lay half in the dried blood, and it stuck half-heartedly to the floor until she crouched, and pulled hard enough for it to come away with sticky, gummy trails clinging to the back.

“To the person who finds me” it read, the words legible, if tear-stained. The ink was smudged and pink-stained throughout, as if the writer had dragged his arm down the fresh, shining words.

“If theres anyone left to find me. Maisie and Ellen turned. I was out back when it happened with the dog. Those fucking SOBs infected my wife and daughter, and Tom shot them, and theres nothing left now. I let the dog out, dont worry. He’ll be fine. Im sorry.

Eli”

Nyota gulped against the pressing threat of tears, tipping her head back and blinking up at the ceiling. She wished she hadn’t come in here. She wished she had listened to Spock. Eli was young, no more than 30 or so, and now he was dead by his own hand, his family wiped out. It wasn’t fair. She crouched for a moment more in quiet reflection, and then realised that Spock would probably be wondering where she was. Letting the paper flutter back to the floor, out of the blood this time, she stood and left the room to find him, shouldering her pack along the way.

‘You entered the room,’ he said, matter-of-factly, as she walked into the kitchen. Her face reddened. She made no reply. He raised an eyebrow, and then closed the cupboard that he had been perusing, a pile of cans visible at the top of his open bag. ‘The washing machine is working. It should not be long before my clothes are clean, and you can replace them with yours. Are you hungry?’

She shook her head. Her stomach was a hard ball, clenched and unwelcoming. She didn’t think that she’d be able to keep anything down just yet.

‘I warned you to stay out,’ Spock reminded her quietly, removing his clothes as the washing machine bleeped.

‘I know.’

‘I regret that you saw-’

‘Don’t. I’m not weak, Spock.’

‘It is not weakness to wish to avoid corpses,’ Spock rebutted.

‘It’s reality now,’ Nyota said softly, dragging out her dirty clothes from where they had been squashed at the bottom of her rucksack. ‘I can’t avoid it forever, even if I want to.’

She avoided Spock’s gaze as she shovelled them into the washer, pulling her hair out of the ponytail it had half fallen out of anyway. The bobble was too tight on her wrist.

‘Very well.’

The awkward silence that prevailed after Spock’s delayed response was deafening. It endured, heavy and uncomfortable, during the long minutes until the washer bleeped again, at which point Nyota felt obligated to break it.

‘It’s getting pretty late, Spock, look,’ she mentioned, gesturing out of the window. Sunset was near, the sky beginning to darken in warm pinks and oranges. ‘Can’t we stay in one of the houses, just for the night?’

For a moment, Spock looked as if he would refuse, eyebrows drawing together, but then his head bowed in acquiescence.

‘It is unlikely that we would get very far in the twilight, and a house would be safer. Perhaps it would be best to try next door, however.’

Nyota nodded. Despite what she had said earlier, she found the idea of sleeping in a house with a corpse discomforting.

‘I’ll just get my stuff,’ she murmured, dragging the pile of clean clothes from the washer and shovelling it back into her bag. What did she care if they were creased now? When she was done, she hefted it onto her back and followed Spock, who was already at the door. Another house, another search. This time, thankfully, it was clear, no bodies in the bedroom, no Reacs trapped in the cupboard like one they’d found last week. By now, the anxious knot in Nyota’s stomach had loosened enough that she was ravenous again, and as soon as they’d ascertained their safety, she went straight for the kitchen. There was a packet of spaghetti on the side, and when she checked the fridge, there was a jar of tomato and basil sauce half-empty on the top shelf.

‘Oh, thank God. Spock!’ she called, grabbing two pans out of one of the cupboards. ‘Want spaghetti for dinner?’

She’d never seen him eat it, but perhaps it was testament to his hunger that when he walked in, he said, ‘Yes, please.’

He hovered awkwardly for a while as she boiled some water for the pasta, but then wandered off when she assured him that she was fine. As she coiled the pasta into the pan, she considered whether or not to tell him how she felt tonight. A bubble of nervous excitement rose in her at the very thought. Maybe he hadn’t shown any signs that he wanted her back, but he could just be waiting for her to say something, waiting for _her_ to push them over the edge of friendship into something more. The spaghetti was nearly done, and the light was soft and ambient in the kitchen, and with all her accumulated imaginings adding up to something she was sure would happen, she decided. There was no time like the present, especially when she didn’t know if they would have that long at all. She called him back in when the food was ready, butterflies in her stomach.

‘Thank you, Nyota. I will make breakfast for us both tomorrow,’ he told her, lowering himself into a chair in front of his steaming plate of food.

‘As long as it’s not eggs, I’m fine with that,’ she smiled, twirling her spaghetti around her fork. She wondered when it would be the right moment to say something; Spock rarely seemed inclined to speak while eating, and she was starving by now. They ate quickly, and by the time she put down her fork, nerves were beginning to get the better of her, the food settling in her stomach like lead. Spock seemed oblivious to her dilemma, but his measured gaze fell on her more often than it might normally have done, and she took that as a good sign. As he reached across to take her plate when they had finished, she laid her hand over his, overcome with eager anticipation. Their skin was in contact for a split-second before he recoiled, snatching his hand back, his expression flickering somewhere between despair and distaste and then blanking once more. Disappointment curdled within her like sour milk.

‘Spock,’ she whimpered, wounded. ‘Spock, I-’

Her throat closed. She didn’t know what to say. Spock was avoiding her gaze completely, staring at an unremarkable spot on the table with his hand clutched to his chest like there was an invisible sling holding it there.

‘I cannot…’ He visibly swallowed, eyes intent on the glass. His speech was slow and deliberate. ‘I care for you, Nyota, but I do not reciprocate your affections. I am sorry.’

It was painful to hear it spelled out for her, but there it was. Her eyes filled with tears; she wouldn’t let them fall, not in front of him. An irrational anger briefly surged in her – why didn’t he want her? What was wrong with her? Did he want some Vulcan woman instead? – but it left her as soon as it had come, replaced with a dark shame. He looked so uncertain, and his eyes, the only indicator of emotion he had ever really had, showed his distress. There was a lengthy silence before he spoke.

‘You are my friend.’

It was whispered, more of a question than a statement, and Nyota’s heart clenched despite her displeasure.

‘Of course I am,’ she said hoarsely, her throat aching with the effort of preventing herself from crying. ‘Of course I am, Spock. Don’t- don’t worry about it.’

Abruptly, he stood, his hands tremoring as he shrank back into the shadows of the corridor.

‘I must meditate.’

His face was like stone, and before she could respond, he was gone. She heard him ascend the stairs, and waited for the sound of a door closing before she gave into her tears. Pushing her plate out of the way, she let them fall as her head rested on the pillow that her arms made, breath stuttering in and out. She’d been hoping for a long time, gathering each shred of possibility, every potential clue that he felt the same, until she had put it all together and drawn the wrong conclusion. What an idiot. In hindsight, it was plain to see that he wasn’t interested. Anyone who wasn’t blinded by attraction could have told her that.

The tears abated much more quickly than expected, but she still felt wrung out in the aftermath, withdrawing from her self-imposed confinement to draw in some fresh air. In a way, she felt better after her cathartic release, but not much. A part of her still ached for him, and a tiny voice inside her head wondered aloud about whether she’d be able to change his mind.

She’d be fine. It wasn’t like she was in love with him or anything. Pulling herself upright on tired legs, she took their plates over to the sink and washed them for something to do - a mindless distraction. Once that was done, she wandered back into the living room and over to the bookcase, which she perused with a wandering finger. Whoever had lived here had obviously loved history, but she didn’t. Janice did. So did Kirk. Swallowing, she steered her thoughts away from the dangers of nostalgia, and grabbed some bullshit autobiography to read on the sofa. She couldn’t give a shit about Lalia Dubout, whoever she was, but reading some mindless drivel was a way to keep her occupied in her solitude. As she slumped on top of a hideous, yet comfortable paisley cushion, her thoughts drifted back to Spock, and how he was feeling. She gave herself the mental equivalent of a smack on the hand, and opened the hardback, letting it rest against her thighs as she brought her knees up. The last vestiges of light were fading outside, the thin curtains growing in opacity as evening became night. She sank herself into reading.

What pulled her out of her engrossment several hours later was the sound of hesitant footsteps. With no bookmark in sight, she folded an edge of the dustcover over the page she was on to mark her place, and looked over the top of the sofa towards the doorway. There, Spock stood, unusually diffident for such a confident man.

‘Do you wish me to sleep elsewhere?’ he asked cautiously, his hands (she assumed) clasped together behind his back.

For a moment, she considered telling him yes, that humiliated anger welling in her once more. But he looked tired, having woken earlier than he should have done that morning, and he looked uncertain too. It did not look well on him. Her yo-yoing emotions now settled on pity, and she shook her head, beckoning him forward.

‘No, it’s fine. I’m fine. We’re not going to talk about it.’

And if she had her way, they never would. Spock bowed his head in affirmation, and padded into the room, rolling out his sleeping bag on the second sofa. It was late, Nyota realised, the chrono on the mantelpiece reading 23:52, and they would be waking early. Her eyelids had long since grown heavy anyway, and so she dropped her book onto the carpet with a soft _thud,_ retrieving her own sleeping bag from the rucksack she had dumped in the corner.

‘Do you know who I was thinking about today?’ she questioned, undoing the bag so quickly that the zip squealed.

‘I do not,’ Spock replied, rigid beneath his own. ‘Who?’

She laughed.

‘Jim Kirk, of all people! I miss him, you know.’

‘I was under the impression that the Cadet was of reprehensible character,’ Spock replied, an almost imperceptible crease to his brow. ‘You have informed me many times of his irresponsible conduct, his overactive libido, and his predilection for fighting.’

A sprinkling of guilt added itself to the roiling wave of emotion that Nyota was already carrying around.

‘He has been a douche sometimes, but he’s not always that bad,’ she admitted, thinking about his hard work with the xenolinguistics club. ‘Overconfident, maybe. A terrible person? I don’t think so.’

‘You have made a reassessment,’ Spock murmured.

‘Yeah.’

A reassessment. There had been a few of those tonight. She couldn’t get past her disappointment over Spock’s reaction to her feelings, but he was her friend, and she wanted to preserve that friendship as best she could. She’d deal with it in the morning. Without further discussion, she called for lights out, giving into her exhaustion. Despite the horrors of outside, she could hear Spock’s steady, even breathing from across the room, and it comforted her.

‘Night, Spock,’ she whispered.

‘Goodnight, Nyota.’

Tomorrow would likely be a very long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you lot enjoyed Uhura's perspective! Next chapter will be Bones, I think, and then it'll mostly circle between our beloved triumvirate - with a few exceptions. Hope you all have a lovely week, and feel free to come and visit my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	5. A World So Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Stardate 2261.70. 0830 hours. KL interviewing LHM.

Leonard Horatio McCoy wears an almost permanent frown. This is to be expected, considering the circumstances, but as Kirk begrudgingly informed me, he has always been prone to scowling. It is obvious that he still grieves for his daughter Joanna, almost three years after her death and subsequent reanimation, as he requests that her name not be mentioned in the interview. A certified doctor, he is a little older than most of the group, having worked at a Georgia hospital for ten years before applying to Starfleet. While he may be more ‘bark’ than ‘bite’, he is the most openly hostile of those I have already interviewed, and so I must admit to a little trepidation.

Good morning, Doctor.

LHM: _[snorts]_ Morning. Can’t say it’s a good one though.

Why not?

_[There is a muscle jumping in his jaw.]_

LHM: Because I’m having to talk to you Federation hacks about _literal_ hell on Earth.

Doctor McCoy, I am truly sorry for your experiences over the last three years.

LHM: Yeah? Well, if you bastards had helped, then maybe my little girl wouldn’t have **_died!_**

_[His voice has risen to a roar, clutching the armrests with white-knuckled hands, the remainder of his body straining forward as if to attack. I cannot help but flinch, but I wave away the guard that inevitably appears.]_

While I make no excuses for my relative comfort compared to yours, you must know that I had no say in the decision to quarantine Terra. I just so happened to be off-planet when it began, and as such, I was saved. That doesn’t mean that I was living the dream. I also lost family and friends in this outbreak, Doctor. I’m not immune to grief.

_[He sits back in his chair, his reddened face draining quickly.]_

LHM: Why… why did you stay with the Federation?

 _[I shrug.]_ This job was all I had. My family is dead, and my colleagues were my only support.

LHM: I- _[a long pause]_ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. You didn’t deserve it. My granddaddy would be ashamed.

It’s fine. A certain degree of hostility is to be expected, considering the trauma that you’ve all experienced. I know that there are some events you don’t wish to speak about, but perhaps you can talk to me about… afterwards?

LHM: _[nods, shamefaced]_ Yeah, sure. We, uh, we stayed in New York for a little while. ‘Bout three weeks, little less maybe. I was in no fit state to be fighting my way out of the state, and I – well, I wanted to stay near my girl for a while, stupid as that sounds.

It doesn’t sound stupid at all. What about after that?

LHM: I knew Jim didn’t want to leave me, but I could tell that he was getting restless. He’d go on longer and longer supply runs, even though I knew he could have got what he needed in a lot less time. He’d suggested going back to San Francisco, but then he mentioned that he wanted to stop off in Iowa.

Why?

LHM: He said it was for weaponry, but I think he just wanted a short-term goal. Maybe he wanted to see Riverside – I don’t know. He could’ve had the biggest collection of knives in the state, and we would have been able to collect the same amount just wandering house to house. Still, it was something to get him moving, and that’s just what he’s like. Human pinball.

And you decided to go with him.

LHM: Yeah. He wouldn’t have left me – I know that – but I needed to get off my ass. Plus, someone needed to look after the brat.

Brat?

LHM: _[a ghostlike smile flits across his face]_ Starship Captain he may be, but he’s always going to be a brat to me. My brat.

* * *

The bracelet on Leonard’s wrist was a constant reminder, but he couldn’t take it off. He pulled gently at the soft threads that tied it together, careful not to fray his precious gift.

Dammit, Jocelyn. Dammit, Joanna. I needed you, baby girl.

That morning, Jim had vaguely, _gingerly_ mentioned that they’d hit the three-week mark in Staten Island. Two weeks and five days since they had carried Joanna, wrapped in her blanket, down the long flights of stairs, and buried her in the public gardens behind the apartment block. Two weeks since Leonard had put his phaser to his head whilst Jim was out on a supply run, shaking so hard that his bones felt like they were rattling within him, salty tears dripping into his open mouth as he sobbed for what had been lost. Two weeks since he’d chosen Jim’s life over the end of his own. The pain was still cutthroat. It felt alive, pulsing in him along with every heartbeat, like it had been injected into his veins. He carried it with slumped shoulders and dragging footsteps, watching Jim’s eyes rake over him in despair, unable to dredge up enough positivity to even assuage his fears.

Was it three weeks since she had died, or more? Had it been quick enough that she didn’t have to hide, blissfully unaware of the carnage until that critical moment, or had she and Jocelyn been hunched together in fear since the beginning? He prayed for the first. He imagined that the second was more likely. He remembered the paralysing terror that had taken hold of him the first time he had seen one of those things, and tortured himself with thinking of how frightened she must have been when Jocelyn, or her neighbour, or one of the doormen had taken a chunk out of her. Had she trusted in her mommy until the very end? Had she tucked her knees up against her chest and accepted a final, bloody embrace? Leonard wondered if it would be worse to know these things, or if uncertainty was a crueller fate.

Jim was out on one of his unnecessary supply runs again, leaving him alone in the apartment. Jim’s reckless nature had been the greatest impetus that had driven him to drop the phaser from his temple, and by God, it was relentless. Someone had to keep this overgrown man-child alive, running carelessly into danger for food, for weaponry, and on one memorable occasion, for a book.

‘I love paper books!’ he had whined, all doe-y blue eyes and pouting lips.

‘Your life is worth more than a damn book, infant!’ Leonard had roared back, furious at Jim’s idiotic need to endanger himself.

True to form, the first emotion to return to him had been anger, the second being the remorse he had felt after seeing what his rage had done to Jim. The bruising had healed within a week, but he hadn’t let Leonard anywhere near him with the dermal regenerator, not even for the wound that was healing, raised and red, on his cheek. It would scar. A few weeks ago, Leonard might have pinned him down and fixed him up anyway, but he didn’t have the strength right now. All his energy was focused on fulfilling his body’s basic needs – and stopping Jim from making any more stupid-ass decisions.

Footsteps on the stairs had him tensing, his hand dropping to the phaser in his belt, but then there was that ridiculous knock pattern on the door, and Jim’s plaintive whine from outside –

‘Boooonesy, let me in!’

‘Wait a damn minute,’ he hissed, stomping over and snapping the locks, yanking the door open. Jim, looking a little dishevelled, but otherwise in pretty good nick, came tumbling in with his jacket tied around his waist.

‘I got a present for you!’ he trilled, reaching into the drawstring bag he carried and thrusting a can of peaches into his face. ‘Like ’em?’

Leonard turned the can over in his hands, and inspected the back of the label. They might not be Georgia peaches, but they were sure better than the replicated shit they’d had at the Academy. Jim was watching him eagerly, hope brimming in his eyes, and so he forced a grimace, nodding.

‘Thanks, Jim.’

He meant it. Jim beamed, leading him back into the living room, and going straight for the can of rice pudding he’d procured the day before. Leonard narrowed his eyes, but allowed him that one indulgence.

‘That’s not all, either!’ he announced thickly, his open mouth displaying half-chewed goopy mush, and attracting Leonard’s disgusted stare. ‘Guess what I found?’

‘A pygmy goat. How the fuck should I know?’

Jim was practically vibrating with excitement as he leant forward, and said, ‘A car. A car, Bones! That’s what I’ve been doing – trying to find a car, and petrol, and I’ve found enough to get us to Riverside, for sure! Probably not San Francisco though – but I’ll think about that later.’

Good news. He tried to conjure up a bit of enthusiasm, but all that he could dredge up was another weak smile, and an even weaker smack on the shoulder.

‘Well done, kid,’ he congratulated, shame at his own inaction rising within him. ‘You’ve sure been useful while I’ve been laid here like someone with Andorian shingles. You shouldn’t have had to wait on me like you have been. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Jim scowled, disapproval showing in the tilt of his mouth before he shovelled another spoonful of rice pudding into his face. ‘You’d have done the same for me, and you needed time to grieve. Don’t apologise for that.’

His words didn’t remove the shame entirely, but they did alleviate it a little, and Leonard managed a brief nod.

‘I’ll be ready to go tomorrow. Just gotta- just gotta say goodbye, okay?’

Jim nodded, anxious eyes fixed on his. His mouth opened, but he seemed to be struggling with speech, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before retreating. Leonard’s hands pressed hard into his knees, fingers gathering up the fabric of his combats.

‘Don’t worry, kid,’ he said softly. ‘I’m… I’ll…’

The platitudes wouldn’t come, no matter how much he tried to force his vocal cords into submission. Though he swallowed convulsively, the hard lump in his throat wouldn’t go down.

‘You should eat something that won’t leave you with Type 2 diabetes in your thirties,’ he eventually settled on, aware that it wasn’t delivered with his usual bite. ‘I’m going to go to the garden. I’ll be back later.’

‘Want me to come with you?’

Jim was halfway to his feet by the time he had finished his sentence, his spoon dropping into the empty rice pudding can with a hollow _thunk._ He’d been hovering over Leonard whenever he wasn’t on supply runs, and while he vaguely appreciated Jim’s concern, he needed to do this alone.

‘No, Jim. Thanks.’

Jim slumped back down into his chair. He still looked anxious, but he nodded nonetheless.

‘I’ll make us some dinner later. Take your phaser, will you?’

Leonard grabbed it out of the charger and waved it in Jim’s direction, then clipped it onto his belt. Before Jim could say anything else, he made his way back towards the door, and opened it without hesitation, walking out into the empty corridor. They hadn’t bothered cleaning the blood off the railings, but now, as he looked at it and felt bile rise in his throat, he wished they had. Averting his eyes, he made his way slowly down the stairs into the lobby, passing the clear spot where Jocelyn’s broken body had once lain. Jim had gathered her up on the second day, and they had buried her beside Joanna in the garden, where she belonged. His grief over her passing might not have been as strong as it was for Jo, but it was certainly still there, stinging rather than burning. They had parted on not-so-amicable terms, and she had tried to keep his baby from him, but still, he had loved Joce fiercely. Difficult as she had made life for him, she had been a good mother to Jo.

He passed through the lobby, past the cracked glass doors that they had reinforced with wood from the reception desk last week, and out into the shared gardens. They were large and well-kept, flowers blooming, but they wouldn’t bloom for long without someone watering them – and he definitely wasn’t going to bother. Sulu might, if he were here. The thought of their gentle friend from the Academy generated more pain than expected, and he concentrated on his surroundings in order to drown it out. They had buried Joanna and Jocelyn beneath a magnolia tree near the centre of the gardens, marking their place with clumsy wooden crosses and scattered flowers, and as Leonard approached, his throat ached ruthlessly with the repression of tears. When he knelt in front of the twin graves, the burning in his eyes grew too much to bear. The tears poured from him in an astonishing deluge, so thick and fast that he felt they might never stop.

He had tried to keep his memories at bay since they had found Joanna, but now they returned with vicious sentimentality, ripping through his thin veneer of wellbeing like tissue paper. His and Jocelyn’s wedding day, Jo-Jo’s birth, the first time she called him ‘dada’, the day she learnt to walk, her last birthday when she had hugged him so tight that he’d felt his hipbones protest – the best days of his life came back to haunt him in a relentless flood. He gasped for breath, falling forward onto his hands as he remembered how Joanna had clung to him at their last meeting, how she’d cried when Jocelyn had dragged her away, her eyes wide and pleading, and he had just stood there watching. He was scared that Jocelyn would drag him back to court and take access away completely, but what did that matter when he hadn’t been there to save his little girl? He dug his hands into the soil beneath them, clawing for something, _anything,_ to hold onto. Before, he hadn’t quite grasped that he would never see his baby’s face again, but now that reality smacked into him like it had been delivered with a punch. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

As that terrible, irreversible truth took hold, his arms shook, then bowed, then gave way. He collapsed, face mashing into the soil. The tears that had been sliding hot and clear down his face now dripped directly into the dirt beneath him, petrichor filling his nostrils, and as he breathed in, he realised that if he shifted just a fraction, he would be tasting soil. He didn’t care. A broken moan forced its way from the recesses of his lungs, then another, the pathetic sounds of a wounded animal, tearing their way up his burning windpipe.

‘Joanna,’ he rasped, his legs trembling now too.

There were no more tears left to cry. His knees gave, and he let gravity take him to his side, curling into a ball in hopeless agony. He didn’t stir for a long time.

Eventually, the sky darkened. He knew that Jim would come looking for him soon if he didn’t drag himself back to the apartment. With limbs like lead, he forced himself slowly to his feet, touching his fingers gently to Joanna’s cross.

‘Goodbye, darlin’. I love you.’

He swiped his fingers across Jocelyn’s too, and then staggered back towards the indoors. He hadn’t realised how cold he was until now, goosebumps rising on his uncovered skin. What an idiot, to have come out here without a jacket. As he grasped the handle of the door that led inside, he caught sight of his dirt-encrusted fingernails, and decided that a shower would definitely be in order when he got back upstairs. There was a new, fragile kind of numbness taking hold of him, and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Either way, he hoped it would leave him with a clear head. When he reached the apartment, he tried to remember Jim’s stupid code knock, but gave up on that pretty quickly. He pounded on the wood until there was suddenly space beneath his clenched fist, and Jim’s worried, bewildered face appeared in front of him.

‘You’ve been ages,’ Jim breathed, opening the door wider and ushering him in. ‘And you’ve- you’ve got dirt…’

He gestured vaguely at his own cheeks as he shut the door behind them. Leonard wiped his face with the clean back of his hand, and stared at the sheer amount of soil that came off onto it.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna go for a shower now,’ he said, slow and thick with Georgia drawl. He was halfway to the bathroom when he heard Jim’s question-

‘Are you alright? I mean, I know you’re not _alright_ alright, but are you-’

‘I did what I needed to do,’ Leonard told him, raising swollen eyes to meet those that were full of concern. ‘Don’t worry, Jim. I’m back, I’m here, and I’m gonna keep your bubble butt alive if it’s the last thing I do. What’s for dinner, by the way?’

As usual, Jim perked up at the mention of food.

‘Beef burgers and fries!’

‘Holy shit. I’m doing the cookin’ next time.’

In the bathroom, he surveyed his soil-smeared face and dirt-encrusted fingernails with disgust, and turned the shower on with his elbow. His clothes were stripped off gingerly, and he stepped into the hot spray with a sigh of relief. The water beneath him trickled brown into the drain. He scrubbed ruthlessly at his skin until it stung under the spray, glowing red, but at least he felt clean again.

‘Dinner’s ready!’ he heard Jim call from the kitchen, and so he dragged himself out from underneath that wonderful heat, and dressed in fresh clothes, towelling his hair as he wandered through. Cholesterol-inducing though it may be, that burger sure smelled good.

‘Thanks, kid,’ he said, dropping into the chair in front of his meal. Across from him, having just taken a huge chunk out of his burger, Jim nodded, mumbling incomprehensibly, but Leonard assumed it meant ‘you’re welcome’. The first bite was gorgeous – he hadn’t realised quite how hungry he was, and Jim was a damn good cook when he tried.

‘Like it?’ Jim asked eagerly, when he had finally swallowed that monster chunk.

‘Yeah, it’s good.’

‘How much would you pay for it?’

_‘What?’_

‘How much would you pay for it?’

Leonard made an ‘I don’t know’ noise around the beef, rolling his eyes when Jim pouted.

‘Maybe 10 credits?’

 _’10 credits?’_ Jim whined, dismay written across his face. ‘This isn’t MacDonald’s!’

‘Yeah, well it ain’t gourmet either. 15 credits.’

'20. Final offer.’

‘Fine.’

‘Or,’ Jim purred, tomato sauce daubed on his chin. ‘You can always pay me in… sugar.’

He made kissy noises into the air, leaning forwards until Leonard grabbed a tissue out of the box on the counter, and wiped his face like he was a child.

‘Jesus Christ, Jim, I can’t take you anywhere.’

Jim tried to squirm away, spluttering, but he couldn’t escape from Leonard’s experienced parenting hands.

‘Ugh, you’re the worst,’ he complained when he was free. There was a redness covering his chin, and it wasn’t from the tomato sauce.

‘You’re the one that wanted to kiss me a minute ago,’ Leonard smirked, shovelling a forkful of fries into his mouth.

‘Kiss my _ass.’_

‘I’d rather not, thanks.’

Jim gave him the evil-eye across the table before returning to his own food. They ate in silence for a little while, until Jim polished off his meal, and Leonard gave up.

‘Can’t eat anymore,’ he groaned, slumping back in his chair.

‘Aww, c’mon, you’re so close,’ Jim crowed, dragging his chair around the table until he was sat way too close. He picked up the fork that had been abandoned and stabbed the final few fries, bringing it up to Leonard’s firmly closed mouth. ‘C’mon, Bonesy, open for the aeroplane.’

Leonard resisted as Jim smushed the fries against his mouth, but eventually opened it resentfully and dragged them off with his teeth, grumbling.

‘Theeeere ya go.’

Sometimes Leonard hated Jim.

Sometimes he didn’t _like_ Jim, anyway.

‘So where’s the car?’ he asked, after he had choked down the food that was bringing him incrementally closer to cardiac arrest.

‘Only a few blocks away,’ Jim grinned, grabbing their plates and putting them in the dishwasher. ‘If we get going early tomorrow morning, we could be there within two days. Maybe swing through Des Moines and see what we can pick up there.’

‘Like what?’

‘More survival gear?’ Jim replied, but his voice wavered, and Leonard narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh, _fine._ There’s this really nice bookshop that I want to visit, but I do want some new boots as well, alright?’

Leonard shrugged.

‘I ain’t got nowhere else to be. But you’re gonna be careful, or I’ll infect you with Denebian ‘flu and hogtie you in the trunk.’

‘Duly noted,’ Jim squeaked.

Leonard nodded, and got up from his chair to look out of the window. It was pouring outside now, his vision obscured by the rivulets running down the glass and the fog of his breath, but he could still see the blurry, slow-moving figures stumbling about on the street. Every evening, he spent time looking out until it grew too dark to do so, and while there were usually one or two Ferals crawling about, he hadn’t seen another human yet. Hell, he’d take a Vulcan at this point. Without speaking, Jim came to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing together.

‘Nothing?’ he asked. It was said more in resignation than in question. Leonard shook his head, eyes dipping to his feet, and back up again. There was always nothing. It might have not have been the most densely-populated part of Staten Island, but he had expected that they might have run across a few people in three weeks.

‘Figures,’ Jim murmured. ‘Want to play cards or something? It’s not time to sleep yet.’

‘Sure,’ Leonard whispered, dragging himself away from the grey, barren outside to indulge himself in escapism for a little while.

‘What do you want to play? Poker?’

‘I’ve got nothin’ to bet.’

‘Me neither!’ Jim shrugged, taking the cards out of their packet to give them a quick shuffle, collapsing onto the sofa. ‘Solitaire? Whist? Go Fish? Snap?’

Leonard stiffened, halfway to seated himself, when he recalled how much Joanna had loved that game. She had shrieked with joy every time she had won a round, gathering up the cards with clumsy, enthusiastic hands and demanding a hug for her troubles. His heart clenched at the thought of her bright eyes and gap-toothed smile, a frisson of pain wiping its way across his chest cavity. It must have shown, because Jim winced, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Not snap,’ Leonard interrupted roughly, forcing his mind away from sunshine and the faint memory of his little girl’s laugh. ‘We can still play poker, and just bet… I don’t know. Paper clips or somethin’.’

Jim snorted.

‘Paper clips!? How about we bet on the food. I’ve had my eye on those beans with mini sausages since you picked them up.’

‘There is _no way_ you’re winning my beans, brat.’

Four rounds later, Jim conceded defeat with a giant huff and a pouting lip.

‘Next time,’ he swore, stabbing his finger at Leonard’s smug face. ‘I’m gonna get those beans if it kills me!’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Leonard smirked, stroking the pad of his finger across the surface of the noodle pot he had acquired. ‘It’s time for bed anyway- hey!’

Mouth twisted in disgust, he used his sleeve to wipe away the slobber that Jim’s sudden wet kiss had left on his cheek.

‘Niiiight!’ Jim sang, scampering away from Leonard’s swiping hand with a delighted giggle.

Grumbling under his breath, Leonard followed him into the corridor, where Jim paused in the doorway of the bedroom he had chosen, suddenly and uncharacteristically solemn.

‘You- you _are_ alright with us setting off tomorrow, aren’t you? If you need more time, I understand.’

‘No, Jim,’ Leonard replied, so quietly that the words were more breath than sound. ‘The earlier we get going, the earlier we can see what ‘Fleet has made of this shitshow, if anyone’s left in ‘Fleet, that is. Anyway. If I don’t leave now, I don’t think I ever will.’

Jim nodded, picking at the peeling wood of the doorframe with blunt nails. The corners of his lips lifted into a gentle curve, too soft to define as a true smile.

‘There’ll be something for us back in San Fran, Bones,’ he promised. ‘Starfleet can’t be gone. Not completely. Not everyone.’

With the very real memory of how the soil of his girl’s grave had felt under his hands, Leonard found that he couldn’t quite believe him. Still, there was hope in Jim’s eyes, and so rather than admonish him for his naïveté, Leonard simply didn’t answer, watching Jim _pick pick pick_ at the wood until it came away in a smooth, thin curl.

‘I’m sure you’ll be awake before me, but if you’re not, I’ll come and get you,’ Jim said eventually, breaking the stifling silence with words spoken too fast. ‘Like I said, the earlier the better.’

Leonard nodded, the faintest of smiles flickering across his face, and retreated into the darkness of his own bedroom across the hall.

‘Night, Jim,’ he murmured, pressing the light pad. Jim backed into his room as he began to shut the door.

‘Night, Bones. Wake me if you need me.’

The words, spoken just a little too late, filtered through the wood. Leonard took comfort in them nonetheless. He peeled off his shirt and trousers, bone tired, as the cold and the wet often made him, and crawled into the bed he had made his own. Thankfully, it seemed to have been a spare room, because there were no personal touches like the holos and clothes and padds in the room Jim had chosen for himself. Leonard didn’t want to live amongst ghosts.

‘Lights out,’ he called, knowing that Jim would probably have his at 10% - the standard for when he was alone. On their first night, Jim had, in fact, offered to stay in the same room, but Leonard couldn’t bear looking at the damage he had done to Jim’s face, nor sleep by the man who had killed Jo, no matter how necessary it had been. Rationality had long since returned to him, and he knew that Jim, who had suffered from nightmares for as long as Leonard had known him, would appreciate the company – but Jim hadn’t asked again, and Leonard wasn’t going to bring it up. Instead, he lay alone in his bed, staring blankly upwards. Sometimes he thought he could make out shapes, but the darkness was so absolute that he knew his eyes were playing tricks on him. He shut them tightly and turned on his side, dragging the duvet up over his frigid shoulders.

Tomorrow they would leave this place, and he was both reluctant and desperate to do so. He had come here full of blind, irrational, burning hope, so at odds with his natural cynicism, and in a matter of moments, had had Joanna - his world - taken from him. Staying here was poisonous, entangling him in grief so absolute that it was an effort to step outside the door, let alone gather the supplies needed for them to survive. That had to change. He only hoped that his girl would be safe here. With that final thought in mind, he sank into the mattress, and willed sleep to come, haunted by the tracking gaze of dull, deadened eyes.

The morning, as it so often did, came too soon. Having practiced medicine for so long, he was used to early starts, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Forcing himself from the warm cocoon of his bedclothes, he stepped out onto frigid wood with a scowl of distaste, wishing not for the first time for the Georgia sun. The rest of the apartment was silent, as was expected. Jim was never very good at waking without an alarm, what with his recurrent nightmares and occasional insomnia, even if Leonard himself woke up at the crack of Satan’s ass like he had his own internal rooster. He collected fresh clothes and draped them over his arm as he padded out of his room and towards the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water hit his freezing skin. He took his time, even as the steam gathered and the air became too heated to draw properly into his lungs – who knew when they’d next get the chance to have a shower? Eventually though, he grew light-headed enough that he knew he’d pass out if he stayed any longer, so he shut off the water and opened the shower door with a gasp of clean, cold air, stepping out with wobbly legs and grabbing a towel.

As he left the bathroom, feeling a lot warmer than before in his jumper and jeans, he heard the click of a door and Jim stumbled, bleary-eyed, towards him.

‘S’too early,’ he slurred, blindly reaching for the bathroom door handle. His boxers were dangerously low on his hips.

‘Jesus, Jim, I can see dick.’

‘You’ve seen it loads of times,’ Jim sighed, letting the door close in his face.

‘Yeah, and I’ve never wanted to! Dress yourself, infant!’

There was a faint unintelligible mumble from within before Leonard heard the shower start back up. Huffing, he went straight for the coffee, and then to the grill. There was no sense in them going without breakfast, and luckily, the guy that had lived here was pretty well stocked up on the essentials. When Jim wandered back in – decent now, thank God – his eyes zeroed in on the food Leonard was plating up.

‘Is this a dream?’ he blurted, staring at the plate Leonard whizzed in front of him. ‘You’re letting me eat 2 kinds of meat on one plate?’

‘For _today,’_ Leonard stressed. ‘Special privileges ‘cause we might be eaten alive today.’

‘Nice!’ Jim grinned, eating half a sausage in one go. Forever disgusted by Jim’s eating habits, Leonard tried not to look into the gaping maw before him and went for his eggs like an actual human being. Despite their earlier banter, conversation was non-existent as they ate, as Leonard thought about leaving relative safety for the hell that was the rest of the world, and Jim? Jim was probably thinking the same, but Leonard didn’t ask, only watched as Jim stared vacantly out of the window behind him. When they were finished, there was nothing much else to do other than pack, and before long, they were standing together by the barricaded front doors, carrying rucksacks that he could tell were going to leave bruises in his shoulders.

‘Do you want to go to the garden again?’ Jim asked quietly, his hand poised to begin dismantling their safety net. Did he want to? No. Last night he had said his goodbyes, and today, whether he liked it or not, was a fresh start. For Jim’s sake. He had to look after Jim. Besides, his girl wasn’t going anywhere. If they ever managed to swing by Staten Island again, he had a quiet place to mourn. He shook his head, grim, but determined.

‘Let’s go.’

Two days to Des Moines, on to Riverside, then to San Francisco. Baby steps. Jim’s life was his focus now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that strange mix of misery and not-so-much-misery! I certainly found some parts of this chapter difficult to write, but I think it turned out alright in the end. Really hope you guys liked it - please tell me what you think, and feel free to chat to me on my [tumblr!](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)
> 
> EDIT: Next chapter is Spock again, I think!


	6. Back From The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiling you guys by bringing the update ahead, but what the hell - I've finished it, so why not? Not too much gore in this chapter at all :)

Stardate 2261.70. 1336 hours. KL interviewing STS.

Spock looks no less rigid than he did the last time I saw him. I had expected a little thawing in his exterior, but perhaps I was thinking in human terms rather than Vulcan. Before he entered the interview room this afternoon, I saw him pass a small child off to someone in the corridor, but I couldn’t tell who it was. I want to ask him about the child, and about his companion, but I expect that those questions would get a frosty reception. Still, as he sits with his legs bent at perfect right angles, with his back as straight as a ruler, I can’t help but satisfy my curiosity about his perspective on something that is relatively fresh in my mind.

So, Nyota told you how she felt on the way to Des Moines.

_[I had thought that his posture couldn’t get any stiffer. I was wrong. He blinks at me instead of replying verbally.]_

You did not reciprocate?

STS: Repeated questioning will not lead me to change my answers. It has already been established, and conveyed to you by multiple sources, that I did not, and do not.

Was your friendship not affected?

STS: There was a brief disruption, however, we have long since passed that stage, as I have told you before.

_[Neither his face, nor his voice shows it, but even I can tell that he is getting annoyed at this interrogation. I decide to change the subject.]_

When Nyota and I finished speaking, she told me about your journey up to a small town in Colorado, where you stayed the night in a house with a man who had killed himself. _[I raise my voice in question, and he nods.]_ How long did it take you to get to Des Moines after that?

STS: One week and five days. At a normal human pace, it would have taken longer, but I was… eager to find my mother. Nevertheless, Nyota did not complain.

Were there any near misses on the way? Any more bike thieves, or wandering zombies? Sorry – Reacs.

STS: We met with a number of problems when we neared populous areas. Specifically, large groups of the reanimated, but also gangs of humanoids who were taking advantage of those in desperate need.

Did you get into a fight with any of those gangs?

_[Spock’s eyebrow shoots up.]_

STS: Vulcans do not involve themselves in fighting, unless we are defending ourselves and our kin. For the most part, we avoided these gangs, and if they caught sight of us, we had transportation. It would have been illogical to endanger ourselves further when we had a goal to fulfil. Once, we were shot at. It appeared, however, that the gunman was not particularly skilled in his aim.

He missed you.

STS: He did. Nyota became very angry with him nonetheless, and required cajolement to leave the area without retribution.

I’m not surprised! What about when you reached Des Moines?

STS: Entering the city was not the easiest of tasks. As the most populous city in Iowa, I had expected danger, but I had not anticipated such a great number of wandering corpses. It was clear that once we began making our way through the streets, we would be putting ourselves in jeopardy that we might not be able to withdraw from. As such, I offered Nyota the chance to remain outside the city.

Bet she took that well.

STS: _[His mouth tightens briefly]_ I would not care to repeat what she said. Suffice it to say that her words contained a refusal.

So you went together.

STS: Yes, and thankfully so. There were a number of incidents from which I barely escaped with my life, and I believe that without Nyota, I would not have done.

She saved your life?

STS: She did.

* * *

 

The tightening in Spock’s chest was not dread. The thickness of his shuddering breath was not fear, nor the hammering of his heart panic. At least, that was what he told himself. Vulcans prided themselves on self-awareness, on self-control, or _shaula,_ but in this moment, Spock was not in control. He was in denial. He had not meditated in days, unable to find the peace required for even the shallowest of states, and his emotions, as deep as a Vulcan’s, as close to the surface as a human’s, were threatening to overwhelm him.

Currently, he and Nyota were hiding within an outside stairwell from the huge mob shuffling along the main street, muscles clenched and trembling in the effort for stillness. The need for immobility was so dire because the stairwell was not opaque, but grey and gridded, the holes within the mesh small, but large enough to detect movement behind. Through the grey blur of the mesh, Spock could see the seemingly endless flow of slow-moving bodies, and while he was sure that he could estimate the numbers of reanimated moving past, he did not wish to. Beside him, Nyota shifted, and when he turned his head slowly towards her, he could see her pupils blown wide with fear. There was little he could do to comfort her, unwilling to make physical contact and absorb her conflicting feelings about him once more. At a loss, he looked away, back towards the street, which seemed to be emptying a little.

‘Should we go?’ Nyota whispered. Spock held up a hand in reply, watching closely as the crowd thinned out, then disappeared but for a few stragglers, as clear as the street may ever be. It was unexpected that they had not been discovered by another during their concealment, considering the density of reanimated they had seen so far in Des Moines. There had already been a few ‘near misses’ since they had entered the city perimeter 2.6 hours ago, but good fortune had saved them thus far. When Spock could no longer hear the footsteps of many, he gestured for Nyota to follow him out from underneath the stairwell, felling the corpse of an Arcadian male which came lurching round the corner. Nyota pressed up against him uncomfortably as they inched along the alleyway towards its entrance on the main street, her elevated breathing puffing cool against the nape of his neck.

‘Which way?’ she breathed. Spock twitched imperceptibly away from the unwanted stimulus against his sensitive ear.

In place of an answer, he pointed right, and as they reached the corner between relative safety and open season where they were the game, he was glad for his silence. The street was not crowded, but it was full enough of the reanimated to cause him some concern, his finger twitching on the trigger of his phaser. The centre in which he knew his mother had last been was a mere kilometre away, a distance which would normally have taken him approximately 12.4 minutes to cover at walking pace, and yet with the roaming corpses that could converge on them at any moment, he doubted that they would get there before midday. The bicycles might have delivered them faster, but they had abandoned them back in the suburbs, concerned that the whir of the spokes would attract attention that they had little protection from.

With a dead end behind them, they had little choice but to move onto the street, and fight their way out of any dangers they might face. Deciding that the street was as clear as it would ever be, Spock glanced back at Nyota, who nodded. Then he crept out from the alleyway on feet that landed too loudly for his liking, edging along the broken glass front of a small boutique, and watching the numerous shuffling figures with sharp eyes. Almost immediately, they were noticed by what had once been a middle-aged human female, her dyed blonde hair torn out in chunks that showed the bloodied scalp underneath. Though soundless, her mouth formed a snarl, lips thin and drawn back to bare blunt teeth, and before she could advance too far, Spock shot her. Unfortunately, either its original movement or the sound of a body falling had attracted the attention of others, and as they slowly moved along, glass turning to brick at their backs, he found himself hard-pressed to combat the sheer number of hostiles.

‘There’s too many,’ Nyota said raggedly. He knew that she was shooting as well, could see the brightness of her phaser beam blinking out of the corner of his eye, and yet, she was right. The few that had originally been wandering down the street had multiplied in a fashion that Spock had not accounted for. He had miscalculated. Beside him, Nyota’s breath was whistling through her teeth at an ever-increasing pace as the monstrous group advanced from all sides, and suddenly, Spock felt empty space against his back. Stumbling a little, he attempted to bypass this latest alleyway, but was prevented from doing so by another wave of reanimated coming from the right.

‘We’re trapped!’ Nyota panted, her voice thin, and high, and desperate, as they were pushed back into the alley by the mass of reanimated. Spock could not summon the wherewithal to make a reply, his concentration entirely on the hopeless task of firing his phaser at the crowd, hypothesising that perhaps if enough fell, they would prevent the others from advancing. That hypothesis was slowly being disproved. In an abrupt flurry of movement, Nyota ran from his side, and as he glanced back, he saw that she was pulling herself on top of a high voltage box against the back wall.

‘We can get up here, come on!’

There was a moment of delay as Spock continued to fire, but then there was truly nowhere to go, and Nyota had already reached the first floor balcony by the time Spock turned, a critical distance from the mob. Heart thundering in his side, he dragged himself onto the box, and was attempting to stand when his arm was grabbed in a painfully tight grip. A young, emaciated female had taken hold of him, splintered nails biting through his jacket, and threatening to tear into skin. He yanked his arm around forcefully, kicking out at the others reaching for him, the phaser he could not afford to drop clasped in the hand that was trapped. With an almighty wrench, he pulled his arm free, but then snapping teeth were perilously close to his leg, and before he could react accordingly, a phaser beam had cut down the corpses nearest to him.

‘Grab my hand!’ Nyota called, holding one out to him as she leant over the railings and utilised her phaser with the other. ‘Come on, Spock!’

He did so, ignoring the overwhelming emotional transference as she helped him pull himself up onto the balcony, lashing out at clawing hands. For a moment, he thought that the weight of his backpack might tip him over into the mob, but then Nyota pulled harder with a hiss through her teeth, and he took hold of the bars. When he landed on concrete, he allowed himself a second of stomach-lurching relief, and gently disentangled himself from Nyota’s death grip on his palm, holstering his phaser. Then the pressing matter of the reanimated climbing over one another to reach them became apparent as groping fingers latched onto the edge of the balcony, and Nyota’s panicked eyes lifted to the balcony above as she stamped on them. The door that had once led inside was bricked over, so it became their only option. Realising that the balcony would be too high to reach without aid, Spock calculated the distance between the drainage pipe that ran vertically along the wall and themselves, judging it to be a passable distance.

‘I will climb up and reach down for you,’ he told her, ignoring her vague protests as he stood on top of the bars and leapt across to the pipe, clutching at it with an unsteady grip. He found a foothold at waist height, and began to lever himself up, acutely aware of the screech that signalled deadened hands losing their grip on the metal. Once at a great enough height, he reached out towards the second floor balcony and jumped, his body slamming into the bars with enough force to bend the groaning metal inwards. Scrambling hands took hold of the misshapen safety net, and as he hung on with one, he crouched to pull Nyota up with the other, lifting her easily over the bars before he climbed over himself.

‘Oh my God. Oh my _God,’_ she said breathlessly, a burble of hysterical laughter leaving her lips as she bent over and let her pack drop to the floor, hands resting on her knees. A loose piece of hair swung down from where she had pinned it into place. ‘Thank you, Spock.’

‘On the contrary, it is you who must be thanked,’ he corrected, his own relief muted by the knowledge of what lurked beneath. ‘If you had not intervened then the statistical probability that I would have perished is approximately ninety-six point three five per cent.’

‘It’s fine, I’m just glad we’re not dead. Now what do we do?’

The door that led inside from this balcony was not bricked over, and so Spock took hold of the rusted handle with an experimental twist, gladdened when it opened – though not for the unholy shriek that heralded its compliance. He gestured forwards, and Nyota led them through into what seemed to be an empty dance studio, the floor-length mirrors and bar running along the wall untouched by all but dust.

‘Let’s hope there’s no ballerina zombies,’ Nyota quipped, dragging her bag along behind her.

‘It seems an unlikely place for a person to be hiding,’ Spock said softly, staring down at the floorboards that creaked beneath his feet. ‘Nevertheless, I would advise caution. I expect that there are stairs that will lead us to the roof, so perhaps we will be able to move away from the greatest danger above ground.’

Nyota’s eyebrows were raised when he looked up, her hands squarely on her hips. When he made no further remark, she sighed, shrugging.

‘Fine, I’ve got nothing else. Just let me see if there’s a bathroom first.’

He nodded, and she wandered through the open arched doorway, weapon in her hand. While he waited, Spock dropped his rucksack and checked the door at the other end of the studio, finding exactly what he was looking for. A flight of stairs led upwards, and when he craned his neck, he could see a fire escape at the top. Retreating to wait for Nyota, he surveyed the barren room with a neutral expression, but an unease in his stomach. This novel emptiness was everywhere, and it weighed heavily upon him. Although his people did not necessarily practice what they preached, he was sure that the sheer loss of life would impact upon even those who were truly xenophobic. How much human life had been extinguished? How many Vulcans had lost their t’hy’la, halfway across the galaxy and gasping in agony as their soulmate was lost to this terror? Spock did not know the answer to either of these questions, but from the evidence he had seen, the future seemed bleak.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as Nyota’s footsteps, rapid and faltering, sounded down the corridor.

 _‘Spock,’_ she hissed as she came skittering into the studio. ‘There are some downstairs – I saw them on the bottom floor as I came out of the bathroom. They didn’t see me, but I think we should go.’

Spock stamped down on the rising dread that surfaced with her words and shouldered his backpack, seeing Nyota do the same.

‘The stairs are this way,’ he muttered, hurrying through the door with her close behind. Their boots smacked on the bare concrete as they took the stairs at a jog, and when Spock reached the fire escape first, he pushed it quickly open, well-oiled hinges soundless. The roof before them was relatively flat, with waist-high brick walling off the perimeter, stretching along several buildings.

‘Well at least we can get all the way over there without trouble,’ Nyota whispered, and as she stepped forwards, she let go of the door, which slammed shut with a crash that made even Spock wince.

‘Oh God,’ she moaned, her eyes squeezing tightly shut. Holding a hand up to silence her, Spock focused his hearing inside the building they had just vacated, allowing his breathing to normalise again as he noticed no significant change in noise levels.

‘It seems to have had little effect,’ he murmured, watching her wilt in relief, a hand going to her chest. ‘I would advise caution, Nyota.’

‘Yes, sorry. Sorry.’

The brick perimeter was high enough to shield them from the view of any on the ground, and with that realisation, Spock shifted, spine straightening and until he stood at his greatest height, vertebrae pulling into blissful alignment. He had spent too long hunched over. Catching Nyota’s eyes on him, a spark there that made him uncomfortable, he began walking to the far edge of the flat concrete, calculating distance as he went. Nought point nine five kilometres. Nought point nine. When they reached the end of the traversable distance, he peered carefully over the edge, fingers biting into brick on reflex as he saw a relatively clear route.

‘They must still be over the other end,’ Nyota said eagerly. Spock did not share her excitement. Instead, with alarm forming static in his ears, he caught the distant sound of encroaching footsteps, too erratic to be those of a functioning human. Perhaps the slamming door had been heard after all. His head snapped back to face the empty space below them, Nyota, as yet unaware, still slumped in what relief she could grasp.

‘They are coming,’ he said urgently, realising that there was no way down that would not shatter their limbs. Nyota froze. ‘What?’ she said, but he paid no attention, turning to cast his gaze over their surroundings, catching sight of an entry hatch set into the floor. He ran for it, fingers dusting across its cloudy surface, noticing with despair the sealant which held it shut.

‘Can you hear them?’ Nyota asked, fear wrapped around her trembling question. Spock nodded, taking his phaser out. No more time for questions.

‘This must be melted,’ he bit out, finger holding down the trigger and watching with impatience as the seal went liquid. ‘Your phaser.’

Nyota fumbled for a moment before following his lead. Spock could hear a cacophony of footsteps on the stairs that they had recently climbed. As the first faint _thud_ of one of the infected running into the door sounded, the seal was liquid enough that he took hold of the handles on either side and wrenched with all his strength. With an almighty effort, the door at the other end of the roof finally crashing open, Spock heaved the hatch open, allowing Nyota to scramble down first. She landed on the floor below with a hiss of pain, but there was no time to ascertain her wellbeing before he jumped himself, pulling the hatch closed as he went. His own landing was lighter, but as Nyota tested her ankle, she nodded in response to his unasked question, though a grimace was still darkening her expression.

‘We must go down.’

Although his phaser was poised for attack, there was no one – deceased or otherwise – in this small office building, and their descent to the ground floor went unimpeded.

‘Front door?’ Nyota panted.

‘No. The window.’

Said window led onto a smaller road that seemed miraculously clear, and yet once they had climbed out of it, Spock gestured towards an alternative route behind the next building – one that would hide them from the road. Perhaps it was unnecessary. Perhaps the reanimated were still concentrated in the ballet studio, but Spock was not about to take any chances. Slowly, ever so slowly, they made their way across a mere fraction of the city, inching towards the conference centre. When they were less than a tenth of a kilometre away, Spock finally recognised the pressure growing in his stomach for what it was – encroaching dread. Until now, he had been almost entirely consumed by the great logistical task that had been reaching Des Moines, and now that he was here, the very real possibility that his mother had perished began to truly manifest in his mind. The rush of blood that his climbing heartbeat pushed round his cardiovascular system felt more forceful than usual, his awareness of it so great that he could feel it pulsing in his ears.

‘Are you alright?’ Nyota whispered, but he did not answer. There was the conference building before him, each of the large windows that faced the street boarded up, as if the building were derelict. From where they were stood, Spock could see a number of obstacles between himself and his destination, but he took care of them quickly, very aware that every corpse he shot down could easily be replaced by another in a matter of moments.

‘Spock? What do we do?’

There was nothing visibly blocking the ornate wooden doors, but it was possible that there were defences on the inside. Still, he did not wish to frighten his mother – if she yet lived, that was – by attempting to break in.

‘We knock,’ he said simply, and after a cursory look to either side of the alley, revealing enough empty space between the reanimated to be able to circumvent them, he turned to Nyota with an eyebrow raised. When she nodded, he brought his phaser up protectively against his chest and jogged straight over to the conference centre door, rapping his knuckles smartly against it. The knock echoed enough to make him cringe inwardly, and yet in the aftermath, there was only silence. Nyota shifted nervously beside him, her phaser beam flashing in the corner of his eye as she began to shoot at those who approached, the light evidently beginning to draw more as the frequency of her fire increased. Spock tried again, his stomach twisting with panic and anticipation and dread all at once. Still nothing.

‘Spock,’ Nyota said, her voice wavering, and when he looked round, he noticed that what had been perhaps a dozen of the reanimated had now tripled, with yet more being drawn in from the surrounding area. Spock began his own volley, but his phaser, the charge of which had been decreasing over the past few hours, finally ceased to function. He yanked his lirpa from where it was strapped to his pack, assessing its ability to take care of the numbers before them, and found it lacking. With Nyota’s failing weapon now their sole long-range defence against the crowd, the panic that had twisted Spock’s stomach now rose to catch his breath, his throat constricting with emotion that he should have been able to control.

‘Spock!’ Nyota hissed, struggling to repel the encroaching crowd. ‘We’re going to have to go.’

The very thought of leaving now was anathema to him when his mother, whether alive or dead, was likely behind those doors. He turned again, and began pounding on the wood, nearly falling through into empty space when it was suddenly wrenched open and a shotgun was pressed to his forehead.

 _‘Stop!_ That’s not an Infected, that’s my son!’

As the wizened old human male clutching the gun backed away, stammering, the door swung open a little more, and he saw her. She looked tired, greying chestnut hair falling from its confines in loose waves, but she was beautifully, _gloriously_ alive. The sight of her filled Spock with so much dizzying relief that he went weak, barely registering the shove that sent him stumbling forwards as Nyota pushed her way inside, slamming the door behind her. The sound shocked Spock out of his reverie, and he first helped Nyota and the old man secure the door with its heavy, rusting bolts before turning back to his mother. There were tears in her eyes. Her smile was blinding.

‘Mother,’ he breathed, so grateful to see her alive that he could not ignore the heady surge of emotion that crested within him. He approached her on shaky legs, dropping his pack and his lirpa, noting absently that the old man and Nyota had withdrawn elsewhere. Nyota’s phaser was fixed within its charger on a table to his right. His mother reached out with open arms, and he allowed himself to be enfolded within them when they met, curling his own hands into the weighty fabric of her jumper. She was not wearing her customary perfume, but she smelled like home nonetheless.

‘Oh, baby, I’m so glad you’re alive,’ she choked, rubbing his back. He clung to her desperately, not having allowed this much physical contact in years due to the disapproval of those on Vulcan. Her emotions slammed into him, almost overwhelming in their intensity, and soon found his own too much to bear. He did not have adequate control. Tears welled in his eyes, and although he blinked them back rapidly, he could not prevent them falling. Trembling, face wet with the evidence of his failure, he pressed his head into his mother’s neck in shame. One hand rose and began stroking over his hair, an old, familiar sensation which was immediately comforting.

‘It’s alright, Spock. My precious boy. Let them come.’

Her voice was as soft as it had been when he was a child, his loathsome tear ducts functioning when those of a Vulcan would not. She had soothed his pain then, and so she did now. Still, Spock recognised the disgrace in his actions. In between great, heaving breaths and tears that thickened his voice, he managed, ‘It is not logical. There is no grief.’

‘Tears aren’t always for pain, Spock,’ his mother reminded him, drawing his head back with a gentle hand and cupping his cheek. Her lovely face showed elation and affection all at once, eyes sparkling with moisture. ‘They’re for happiness, and relief, and for when you’re overwhelmed too. Perfectly natural.’

Natural for a human, perhaps, Spock wanted to say, but he did not wish to hurt her. Long ago, when his father had bid him choose between the two halves of himself, he had done so with little thought for an alternative. He had been raised on Vulcan in the Vulcan way, with Vulcan peers whom might have considered his very existence an abomination, but were also the only peers he had. Since he was an infant, his humanity had been sometimes viciously suppressed beneath the weight of Surakian precepts, and although his mother had never castigated him for emoting, the majority of those surrounding him were scandalised by even the merest glimpse of anything that evidenced his half-breed status. Spock now realised the lengths his father must have gone in order to fight for even the barest modicum of respect from those who thought him a traitor. He had been stern with Spock, indulgence a rare thing to find in their household, and yet Spock understood why, even if he questioned his father’s methods. He had been ridiculed, belittled and ostracised even as he had attempted to be more Vulcan than those who were pure of blood – how would he have been treated if he had accepted his human half?

Still, he had been offered the choice, and had chosen to be Vulcan. He had chosen control, not tears, and their appearance was shameful to him. Years of brutal suppression had long since taken their toll. He drew back slowly so as not to hurt his mother, tears drying in salt trails against his face as he separated them but for her lingering hands on his biceps. Her smile dimmed a little, but her pain was quickly concealed, as masterful as to be expected from someone who had made their home on Vulcan thirty years ago.

‘I love you, Spock,’ she said softly, squeezing his arms gently. ‘I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable for me to say it, but-’

‘I love you too, Mother.’

The words slipped from his mouth almost by accident, but they were true nonetheless. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to express his feelings towards her, but the sentiment was as it had been twenty years before. She stared at him, wide-eyed, and the smile that took her lips was beatific.

‘I have been waiting a long time to hear you say that, my darling,’ she confessed, squeezing his arms once more before letting her hands drop. Guilt licked at the edges of his shields, and he opened his mouth to apologise, but she shook her head before he could, clasping her hands together across her stomach. ‘It’s alright, Spock. I understand why you haven’t. I _know_ that you love me, even if you don’t say it often, just as I know that your father loves me.’

Spock’s head, lowered in shame, jerked upwards at the mention of his father.

‘Sa-mekh is well?’ he asked eagerly, recalling the existence of their bond.

‘He is alive, I know that much. And he knows that I am too – but I can’t communicate to him that you are. Not knowing how you are must be driving him mad.’

‘I doubt that Sa-mekh would be ‘driven mad’ over his lack of knowledge concerning me,’ Spock denied. ‘He knows that you are well, and that must bring him a great deal of comfort.’

His mother let an amused breath huff out of her nose.

‘I know your father has never been incredibly demonstrative, but he loves you very much. You must know that.’

No, he did not know. In lieu of an answer, Spock remained silent, his lips tugged down sourly at the corners.

‘Oh, Spock,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t sulk, darling, it’s unbecoming. Meld with me – I’ll show you how much your father loves you.’

Spock’s eyebrow shot upwards, but he could not deny that the idea intrigued him. That long-enduring, long-repressed part of him that craved Sa-mekh’s affection reared its ugly head, and he found himself nodding in acquiescence, raising his hand to his mother’s face.

‘My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.’

With the ease of someone well-practiced in melding – more well-practiced than Spock himself, considering his lack of ties – his mother brought forth memories like rolling an old-style Terran video, only with tangible emotion attached. He saw himself as a newborn, lifted carefully into his Sa-mekh’s arms, and an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness rolled over him as his infant self squirmed, and began to wail.

 _These are your father’s emotions,_ his mother’s voice told him. _This is what he has shown me._

The scene changed, and then he saw an unstable toddler fall in the desert heat, verdant blood gushing from an open wound in his head, and Sa-mekh came running, terror pulsing through his mind… A child beaten by his peers, and although Sa-mekh wished to see them punished, concern for his son’s wellbeing if he continued on this path won out over the rage… T’Pring humiliates his son by asking for their preliminary bond broken, and he wishes to comfort the child he loves so dearly, but he does not know how… Spock rejects the opportunity to attend the Vulcan Science Academy in favour of Starfleet, and while he is somewhat pleased that his son defended his mother, he is also fearful for his son’s life in an organisation which is beyond his reach, an organisation which will expose him to more dangers than the mutterings of xenophobes…

Spock emerged from the meld gasping, shaking, and yet bursting with a happiness he had not expected. Perhaps mistaking his trembling for a sign of something more sinister, his mother grasped him underneath his elbows and guided him towards a chair by the wall of the foyer they were still standing in. He half-collapsed into it, shock his prevailing emotion.

‘I’m sorry, Spock, I shouldn’t have done that today. You were already overwhelmed when you were arrived. I shouldn’t have added to that.’

Static buzzed in his ears, and he shook his head, both to reassure her, and in an attempt to regain his habitual clarity of hearing. Mother’s hands were an anchor in the disorientation, the heat of them radiating through the layers of his clothing and warming his skin.

‘Sa-mekh…’ he whispered, not sure where his sentence was going to lead. His mother only smiled, drawing her hands back to rest on her knees as she bent over him. If she was going to speak further, Spock would never have known, because then came an alarmed shout of his name from outside the room. Despite his remaining stupefaction, he forced himself to his feet, snatching up Nyota’s abandoned phaser, and followed the origin of a second cry, finding himself in what seemed to be a classroom just down the corridor. Within it stood Nyota with her hands raised in surrender – and the old man of before shakily pointing his shotgun at her.

‘Andrew!’ his mother shrieked, starting forwards. Spock stilled her with a hand on her wrist, catching Nyota’s frightened gaze.

‘He’s been bitten,’ she blurted, flinching as Andrew’s finger flexed on the trigger.

‘I’m fine!’ he snarled, with the clipped consonants and long vowels of Received Pronunciation. The barrel wavered as Spock stepped closer. ‘Back off, mongrel!’

His mother made a strangled sound of indignation, but Spock held up a hand to quiet her.

‘Sir, you must put the gun down,’ he said firmly, stilling as per his request.

‘I’ll do nothing of the sort! If she had just kept her bloody mouth shut then this wouldn’t have needed to happen! In fact, if you hadn’t turned up, then this never would have happened at all!’

‘Look,’ Nyota choked, her arms beginning to drop, presumably aching. ‘I’m sorry, okay? But we didn’t mean for this to happen.’

What little responsibility Spock might once have felt had been completely obliterated by Andrew’s violent actions, and as he was distracted by Nyota, Spock’s hand crept towards the phaser in his belt.

‘Oh, you didn’t _mean_ for this to happen!’ Andrew sneered, the pitch of his voice climbing into hysteria. ‘Ha! That’s fine then – I’ll just put the gun down, and we can just pretend that I wasn’t b-’

His sentence was cut short as he fell to the floor unconscious, having apparently been unaware of Spock’s borrowed phaser. As the shotgun dropped onto the tile with a clatter, Nyota cringed away, but it didn’t go off. Mother stepped forwards, kneeling down beside Andrew.

‘Where was he bitten – oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’

‘Oh, it’s Nyota. And on his arm, can you see..?’

‘Yes,’ Mother sighed, drawing back the fabric of his shirt with one finger to reveal a gouge in his lower arm. ‘I’m Amanda, by the way. Andrew was always so kind to me, I don’t want him to die.’

‘I’m afraid that it is no longer a choice for us to make. However, I am not sure if-’

Spock stopped abruptly as Andrew began to jerk in violent, snapping movements, dragging his mother backwards and behind him to shield her. Nyota likewise stumbled back, watching in horror as the seizing ended, and Andrew lay still for a long moment, before shifting like a human waking from a dream. Only now, as his eyes opened, they were glazed over, and as he turned his head mechanically towards them, his lips drew back over his gums in a vicious snarl. For Spock, there was no alternative but to put him down. As Andrew fell to the floor for a final time, Nyota’s phaser a comforting weight in his hand, Spock leaned into his mother to console her. There was a time in which the body before him would have caused him consternation. Now, however, he had found his mother, and her protection was paramount, for Sa-mekh’s sake as well as his own. He would not lose her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what did you think? Amanda was always going to live - I couldn't bear to kill her off, not again. Really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and you can always find me on [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Now My Heart Stumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No gore warnings, just sap at the end! And a meeting I hope you'll enjoy :)

Stardate 2261.70. 1523 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

I hadn't expected Jim to appear this afternoon. However, as Spock got up to leave after telling me of the reunion with his mother, he appeared in the doorway, and asked me if he could move tomorrow’s interview forward to this afternoon. Anything that will give me a lie-in is much appreciated, and I told him as much. At our last meeting, he was quiet and restrained, and based on the way his expression shuttered off when he told me of Joanna’s death, I believe that he still harbours guilt. Today though, he seems much chirpier, and I suspect that is because we will soon be discussing something a little more positive than New York. Fortunately, my suspicions seem to be correct.

JK: It didn’t take us long to get to Des Moines. Just a few days. There was no real reason to go to Iowa. I told Bones – well, you know what I told Bones. But honestly? I was so scared that we’d find nothing back in San Francisco that I needed that delay.’

That’s perfectly reasonable. Why didn’t you tell Leonard the truth?

JK: _[emits a strangled laugh]_ After Jo-Jo? Every time I went on a supply run, I was scared that I’d come back to another corpse. _[Jim is quiet for much longer than a natural pause.]_ He needed something to hold onto – we both did.

Was the city difficult to get to?

JK: _Get_ to? Nah – we had a car, and that was more than most. I’m sure Spock’s told you already, but it was getting around inside Des Moines that was the problem. We left the car outside the city limits, because we knew that the place would be crawling with Ferals, and it wouldn’t be enough to keep them out.

So you went in on foot. Considering what Spock _has_ told me, that can’t have been easy.

JK: It wasn’t. See, this idiot _[points to himself]_ and his stupid need for distraction from ‘Fleet led us right into Hell Central. Once we were in, it was pretty clear that we didn’t have enough charge on our phasers to get back out, and any places that we might have picked up weaponry had already been looted.

_[He runs his finger along the cracked plastic spine of a book peeking out of his bag.]_

Did you pick up any books?

JK: _[grins]_ Not this time, I’m afraid. Think Bones would’a killed me if I’d tried. Besides, like I said, the place was crawling. If Bones hadn’t killed me, then one of those things sure would.

Shame.

JK: Yeah, I did notice a few nice places in passing. We didn’t have it as hard as Spock and Nyota, you know. We came in from a different direction and just so happened to meet less of the infected on the way. Still, it was a lot of hide and seek for two grown-ass men.

So… you couldn’t leave.

JK: Correct.

And you had no obvious goal.

JK: Also correct.

How did you survive?

_[Jim smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.]_

JK: Let’s just say – thank God for Spock. 

* * *

 

Sometimes, the grief over Joanna’s death welled in Jim until he could hardly bear to keep it inside, choking him with pain and guilt and something like the hopeless dread of missing a step on the stairs, expecting her presence, and feeling his stomach lurch when he realised that she was no longer there. She would never be there again. Sometimes, he would turn to Bones with her name on his lips, burning for understanding, to share his burden, and then he would remember how Bones had broken in New York, and he couldn’t. He hadn’t the right. He might have been Bones’ saviour, but he was also his daughter’s murderer – a terrible dichotomy, if there ever was one.

This game of cat and mouse hadn’t been what Jim had intended. Sure, Des Moines had been pretty densely populated pre-Plague (as Jim was now calling it), but having remained mostly out of the urban sprawl ever since they had left the dorms, he had seriously underestimated the sheer number of bodies that would remain. The place was crawling. Even if he had been oblivious to the danger, he would have been able to tell that the situation was substantially worse than usual, because Bones had gone silent. No bitching today about Jim’s eating habits or his impulsivity, just muteness, and a grave expression that scared Jim when he looked at it for too long. He had brought them here because he had wanted to put off the inevitable panic of confirming that Starfleet was gone for good.

_You brought him here to die._

It was an intrusive thought that matched neither his usual optimism, nor the determination it manifested as. Since when did James T. Kirk give up? Yet their situation was more precarious than any he had ever before experienced on Terra, the glut of fear and dread that constricted his lungs with every indrawn breath distantly familiar.

Blink.

He was a boy again, a frightened child with a cramping belly and wasting muscles, and a knife sharp enough to defend his own. A wreck of a boy, fiercely protective and falling apart, watching his _world_ fall apart…

‘Jim.’

Blink.

The barren wasteland of Tarsus became the empty souvenir shop they had taken shelter in, the children replaced by a man he cared for equally. Bones’ brow knitted, and he forced an unconvincing smile. He was still that boy. He was still a survivor, clawing his way forwards through whatever shit the universe decided to throw at him. He was alive, and so was Bones, and for the moment, that was enough.

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ Bones demanded, lip curling in a wonderfully familiar scowl. ‘This isn’t exactly the time to go Dolly Daydream, kid.’

‘Sorry,’ Jim said absently, flinching as he heard the creak of bowing wood, one set of doors and a pile of furniture between them and the slouching masses. It wouldn’t be long before they got in, and he’d die a thousand deaths before he let them get to Bones. After the mad scramble inside, they had scouted the place out, and there was a secondary door at the back that led out onto another road. Given the pounding coming from the front, he would bet that they’d have more chance slipping out the back way. Without warning, he weaved his way through the mess of smashed china and piles of knick-knacks, through the warehouse behind it, towards the back entrance. Bones followed with a questioning call of his name, but Jim didn’t answer, too focused on getting there. They’d locked and barricaded this door too, but he’d heard nothing back there since their arrival.

‘Jim-’

‘Shush, let me listen.’

Bones spluttered indignantly, but Jim just held up a hand, and after moving away enough of the furniture in front of it, he bent and pressed his ear to the door. Nothing.

‘We should try leaving this way,’ he suggested, straightening up. ‘I can’t hear anything out there.’

‘Well, they don’t make noise, do they?’

‘We’ve got to do something, Bones, and we’ve got to do it soon,’ Jim countered. He couldn’t hear the wood cracking anymore, but the faint sounds of invading bodies were still there, and he shuddered as he imagined them climbing over one another in their desperate pursuit. ‘That door’s gonna go, and then we’re fucked.’

Bones drew in a long, loud breath in through his nose, then nodded, eyes hard.

‘Fine. Out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire. I’ll get the phasers.’

They had put them on charge as soon as the barricades had gone up, and Jim hoped that they’d be enough to get them… where? Safety, he guessed, and then back to San Francisco. Time to see what remained of ‘Fleet once and for all. Bones returned holding their phasers in one hand, and dragging Jim’s backpack with another, which he donned with a grateful smile. There was a faint snap from the vicinity of the front entrance, and he took hold of the door handle, adrenaline forcing his heartrate up.

‘Bones-’ he whispered, looking back, but he was silenced with a glare.

‘Don’t start all that sugary shit now, Jimmy. We’ll be fine, alright? If we live I’ll let you have one of those uncomfortably long hugs you seem to like so much. Now, move.’

‘Sir, yes, sir,’ Jim breathed, snapping to and snatching his phaser out of Bones’ hand as he opened the door. Absurdly optimistic, Jim had hoped that they would be able to slip away without being noticed, but of course, they immediately attracted attention. Jim had about half a second to examine their surroundings before being accosted by a rail-thin South Asian man, whom he kicked away before shooting, grateful for his reflexes. There were fewer Ferals on this road than the one they had previously escaped, but there were still a sizeable number to evade, and yet more were arriving. They became a blur as Jim dragged Bones across streets and through grungy alleyways, dodging gracelessly away from grasping hands and snapping jaws, but the numbers were climbing, and as they stumbled around the corner of a department store, there was nowhere else to go. Jim’s world shrunk to the feeling of Bones pressed up against his arm, his own laboured breathing and blood rushing in his ears as they were surrounded by too many to handle, phaser useless against the sheer volume of the mindless infected.

‘Should’ve let me make my speech,’ Jim panted, hopelessly picking off one by one, too slow to make much of a difference.

‘Fuck it. Let them have me and run.’

 _‘What?’_ Jim squeaked, unable to turn to look at him for fear of getting his arm torn off. ‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Bones, you’re-’

‘I’m a tired, old doctor who’s lost everything but you. I want you to live, Jim.’

‘You’re 32!’ Jim hissed. ‘And dammit, Bones, I don’t want to live without you. If we’re going, we’re going together.’

Fortunately, they had no more chance to argue, because just as Jim was preparing to be eaten alive – if it was even possible to prepare for that – a door behind them opened, and the corpses in the way were shot down with amazing speed.

‘Come, quickly,’ he heard a clipped voice say, barely registering the man behind it as he pushed Bones inside the building ahead of him, teeth grazing his hand as he slammed the door behind him. The as yet unnamed man went straight for the heavy bolts to secure it, and though Jim dived forward to help, he was apparently unnecessary. The locks slammed into place, Bones was wandering around shaking his head, and when he looked to their saviour, Jim noticed that his ear curved into an elegant point.

‘No way,’ he breathed, too quietly for a human to hear. The Vulcan’s head twitched in his direction, and Jim corrected himself. ‘Sorry. I mean, thanks!’

‘You are welcome,’ the stranger replied, turning around, and Jim was immediately struck by two things. Firstly, when he wasn’t facing certain death, that voice made him a little shivery. Secondly -  

 _Holy shit,_ Jim thought. _Holy shit, you’re gorgeous._

Jim had always been fascinated by Vulcans, but he’d never seen one as hot as this, all beautiful big brown eyes and silky-looking hair that he was sure would feel like satin through his fingers. One perfect eyebrow arched high as he stared, words momentarily escaping him. Luckily, Bones was on hand.

‘Saved by a Vulcan. Christ on a cracker.’

‘Would you have preferred me to be human?’ the Vulcan asked, head tilted. ‘I am afraid that my genetics have remained unchanged since birth.’

‘Well if you’re gonna be like that, then-’

‘He means ‘thanks’,’ Jim interrupted, cursing Bones’ abrasiveness. ‘I’m Jim, by the way, and that grump is Leonard.’

Ignoring Bones’ angry grumble, he dumped his pack on the floor and stuck his hand out. When the Vulcan merely stared, he realised what he was doing, and formed the ta’al with his fingers.

‘Sorry, sorry, I forgot,’ he laughed nervously. ‘What’s your name, anyway?’

‘I am Spock.’

_Spock._

It was the same name as the Professor that Uhura had worshipped. Jim was pretty sure that any name would have made his stomach fizz, but knowing it was a joy. He found himself smiling goofily, and Spock probably thought he was some freak of nature, but it didn’t show. Of course it didn’t – he was a Vulcan, and a pretty one at that.

‘Hi, Spock,’ he said softly. ‘Thanks for saving us.’

‘All life is precious,’ Spock replied, head dipping nonetheless.

‘What about those things outside? Didn’t seem to have a problem shooting ’em.’

 _‘Bones,’_ Jim hissed, exasperated, just as Spock said, ‘They are not alive, and are therefore exempt. My statement remains.’

Bones harrumphed, but Jim paid him no mind, instead grinning at Spock. He watched with rapt attention as Spock frowned infinitesimally, pretty lips parting, before he cocked his head as if he could hear something they couldn’t. A few moments later, Jim heard footsteps hammering down the corridor, and a breathless, strangely familiar female voice came from just around the corner.

‘Hey, Spock, what’s going… _on. Jim?’_

Jim’s jaw dropped as Uhura came to a halt in the doorway, her hand clutching at the dark wood to her left. A weight that he hadn’t realised was on his chest lifted, and he held his arms out wide as she came running towards him, slamming into him with such force that he staggered back a little.

‘Oh my God,’ he beamed, squeezing her tight. ‘Oh my God, Uhura, I’m so glad you’re alive!’

‘It’s Nyota,’ she corrected, laughing and crying a little at the same time. With a little tug at the hair at the base of his neck, she stepped back, wiping her eyes. ‘Nyota is my first name, and you can use it if you’re not going to be an ass.’

‘I’ll try my best,’ Jim promised her, turning to Spock as she moved on to greet Bones. They had barely been acquainted, but a familiar face was a comfort, he knew that. Although his expression had hardly changed, Spock’s eyes showed confusion, and perhaps a little jealousy. He’d never seen a Vulcan with eyes so human. Smiling gently, he opened his mouth to explain, but Uhura – Nyota – got there first.

‘Sorry, that was rude of me. Spock, this is Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy – from the Academy.’

Spock’s eyebrow arched so high that Jim was worried it would stick. Worse, something in his face shifted at the revelation, and Jim didn’t think it was a positive shift. Perhaps Nyota had told Spock about him. Even though he was incredibly glad to see her, he knew that they hadn’t always been on the best of terms, and he prayed that Spock hadn’t been affected by the (admittedly exaggerated) tales of his douchebaggery that circulated around campus. His hopes, however, were plummeting, and when Nyota moved to stand by Spock, too close for comfort, he shrivelled up a little inside. Of course. She had mentioned Professor Spock a lot, and it made sense for them to be together, even if something deep inside Jim throbbed with agony at the very thought.

‘Jim, this is Spock,’ she grinned, a possessive inflection to her words that a primal part of Jim didn’t think she had the right to have. ‘As in Professor Spock.’

‘Yeah, I gathered,’ he murmured, forcing a smile. His eyes slid back to his new favourite Vulcan like they were magnetised, holding Spock’s for a long, intense moment before it overwhelmed him, and he had to look away. All three of them ignored Bones’ muttered ‘heard some stories about your classes, my God’, and Jim was about to speak again when he caught Nyota’s incensed expression.

‘Spock, can I speak with you a moment?’ she asked, syrupy-sweet, gesturing through the open doorway. Spock immediately obliged, and Jim's upper body arched after him before he could prevent it. When he gave Bones a furtive look out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of folded arms, and turned to face him fully, embarrassment and defiance warring to be his dominant expression.

‘You’re looking at him like you wanna eat him,’ Bones grimaced, lip curled in disgust. ‘Maybe tone down the slavering a touch, Romeo.’

No sooner had he begun to protest than Nyota stomped back into the room, her awesome fear-inducing power disproportionate to her tiny frame.

‘You listen here, Jim Kirk,’ she growled, advancing on him like a predator. Jim begin sliding ever-so-slowly backwards, feet in a sort-of awkward moonwalk. ‘Spock has gone to find his mom. In the meantime, I’m setting things straight. He is _not_ someone you can fuck and abandon, so you can damn well stop looking at him like a piece of meat.’

‘Okay, wait, wait, wait. First of all, that isn’t what I want. Second of all, my reputation is a lot worse than the reality. And third – I’m not gonna try and steal your boyfriend, because I’m not _like_ that.’

Although Nyota had drawn herself up to continue, all the wind suddenly went out of her sails, and her breath left her in a short, sharp huff. He was pretty sure that he had caught a flicker of pain cross her face, but it might have been anger instead.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ she muttered, looking rather put out.

That took a long while for Jim to process, but when he did, he had to clamp down on his facial muscles to repress the enormous grin that threatened to break out. Hallelujah! They weren’t dead, they’d been saved by a gorgeous Vulcan, and he was unattached. Could he have had a better day? Apart from the apocalypse still being a thing, of course.

‘Wait – did you say his _mom?’_

Bones’ question brought Jim out of the pleasant daydream he was sinking into. He’d missed that particular revelation in amongst what he considered important, but he was curious about that as well.

‘Yeah, she was here for a conference,’ Nyota replied, dropping her weight onto her left foot. ‘We came here together to find her.’

Jim didn’t like the emphasis she put on ‘we’. The part of him that had surfaced before, the part that told him that he knew Spock without having even met him before, returned with a vengeance. He might not have understood this sudden sense of possessiveness, but it was certainly there, and Nyota’s obvious feelings towards Spock had begun to grate. A second or two of ugly hatred blinded him, and then a deeper feeling of shame. He had known Spock for less than half an hour, and Nyota was his… friend? He had no right to feel that way. In his reverie, he had evidently missed a part of the conversation, and now Bones was looking at him with the same concern that he had back in their early Academy days, when Jim was still ragged at the edges from a lifetime of hurt. He gave Bones an awkward smile, knowing that it wasn’t enough, but that it would have to do.

‘So, what’s his mom’s name?’ Jim asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

‘My name is Amanda, dear.’

Jim whirled around, and his eyes widened as he saw a human woman entering the room, Spock ever so slightly ahead, as if to protect her.

 _That’s sweet,_ Jim mused, and then Bones said what both of them were thinking.

‘You’re- you’re _human.’_

She had a lovely smile, and a musical laugh that Jim rather envied.

‘That I am. I’m sorry if I’m not what you were expecting.’ As Bones spluttered, red-faced, she approached Jim and held her hand out, Spock still hovering on the periphery. ‘Amanda Grayson. Teacher, linguist, and this one’s mother.’

With her free hand, she jabbed her thumb at Spock, who seemed particularly scandalised by her gesture. Jim shook her hand firmly, and gave her his most charming smile.

‘Jim Kirk. Genius.’

She laughed again as she let go of his hand, moving towards Bones. Jim then turned that smile on Spock, who raised an eyebrow, lips parted ever so slightly. They looked soft, and Jim wanted to touch them – with his own lips, preferably. As Bones and Amanda made small-talk, Nyota having been dragged into the conversation, he sidled over to his favourite Vulcan. His only Vulcan.

‘I believe that my mother likes you,’ Spock told him, as deadpan as if he had just informed Jim about the weather. Warmth suffused Jim’s chest cavity, the smile dimming to something shyer, more genuine.

‘Really?’ he asked softly. ‘Wow. My own mom doesn’t even like me.’

Spock tilted his head, that tiny frown creasing his forehead again. He might have spoken, but for the exclamation of sadness that came from Amanda, which immediately took Spock’s attention.

‘Mother?’ he inquired, starting forwards, but Jim held back, knowing exactly what Bones had just told them. Bones looked wrecked once more, crumpling in on himself while surrounded by two people he had never met before, and one he barely knew. Tangled in his own misery and guilt, Jim remained in the background, but then he caught Bones’ watery eyes and caved, taking hold of his hand and squeezing. The tears came then, and Amanda wrapped Bones in her arms, one hand moving to his hair.

‘Will you leave us alone for a while?’

It was more of an order than a request, and Jim dutifully left the room along with Spock and Nyota, who was still standing too close to Spock for Jim’s liking.

‘Maybe Jim could go and get himself settled in?’ she suggested, a hand coming to rest lightly on his arm. Jim’s stomach dropped, but Spock’s subtle shift away from her satisfied the new-found ache within him.

‘I would like to speak with him first. If that is alright with you?’

The question was directed towards Jim, who nodded, surprised. Nyota frowned, her jaw briefly setting, before she nodded and set off back down the corridor.

‘She’s not happy,’ Jim whispered, knowing Spock would hear it.

‘I do not know why.’

Jim let out a soft amused snort, his lips curving into a gentle smile. He looked up at Spock with his eyebrows raised.

‘Really? You have no idea?’ he questioned, and when Spock shook his head, he elucidated, ‘She likes you, Spock. And by that I mean she wants you. She – I mean, she said she’s not your girlfriend, right?’

There was no reason for Nyota to lie, but when Spock nodded, he could breathe a little deeper. Still, there was another concern.

‘Do you… want her?’

Perhaps the urgency in his question was not lost on Spock, because he shook his head firmly before Jim had even finished speaking.

‘I do not,’ he confirmed. ‘Nyota is my friend, and I care for her deeply, but she will never be my bondmate.’

Jim was suddenly, ridiculously light-headed with relief, and when he raised the eyes he had lowered in anticipation of pain, Spock’s own seemed softer than before.

‘Is a bondmate like a husband?’ he asked. Then he realised what he had said, and blushed violently. ‘Wife, I mean. Wife?’

Though Jim cringed, Spock didn’t seem at all ruffled, and answered, ‘It is similar, but with a mental component to your spiritual and physical joining. Vulcans prize above all else mental compatibility, which supersedes gender and sexual preference.’

‘But you’re half human, aren’t you?’

Spock stiffened so entirely that Jim swore he could have used his back as a ruler.

‘I am,’ he agreed, his voice having lost the warmth it had previously possessed. ‘I am aware that many see my mixed heritage as a disadvantage, however-’

‘Oh, Spock, no!’ Jim soothed, curling a hand around his forearm, and silently rejoicing when it wasn’t shaken off. ‘Why would I think any less of you for that? That’s awesome!’

He knew he was gushing, but Spock's withdrawal had made his chest clench, and he really didn’t want it to happen again. Luckily, the moment was over as quickly as it had begun, and the hyper-rigidity in Spock’s muscles disappeared.

‘Those on Vulcan did not consider my existence ‘awesome’,’ he murmured, and Jim tightened his grip on his arm, stroking his thumb gently against the soft fabric of the jumper he wore.

‘That’s awful. Were they mean to you?’

‘I was ostracised from the moment I began interacting with my peers,’ Spock admitted, his gaze far away from Jim’s. ‘I was an aberration, a half-breed. A stain on Vulcan society.’

His tone did not waver, but Jim saw the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly, and interpreted it as distress.

‘You’re none of those things!’ he protested, taking hold of his other arm in the same loose grip. ‘I’ve known you for like, an hour, and I can say that. You don’t deserve people to dislike you.’

‘Nor do you.’

Momentarily thrown off-balance, Jim finally let go of him, noticing that Spock’s arms hovered at right-angles for a little while afterwards.

‘What do you mean?’

Spock looked briefly flustered, but soon regained his composure.

‘In the foyer, you mentioned that your mother did not like you,’ he replied, following his statement hurriedly with, ‘I apologise if I have overstepped my bounds.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Jim murmured, forcing a brittle smile. ‘I- My mom and I were never really close. I guess you know about my dad? Yeah. I look a lot like him, and she couldn’t bear to-’

His breath caught in his aching throat, and it took a long while beneath Spock’s understanding gaze to collect himself.

‘She couldn’t look at me. I was the physical reminder of what she’d lost, and she couldn’t take that.’

There was a lot more that Jim could have said, about Frank, and Tarsus, and the way he had thrown himself into fights just to alleviate the numbness, but he didn’t. As much as he instinctively trusted Spock, there were some things he couldn’t talk about. Yet, anyway. He had folded his arms defensively, curling in on himself like he had learnt to do, but when one of Spock’s hands grazed over the sharp point of his elbow, they loosened in shock.

‘It is illogical to apologise for others’ misdeeds,’ Spock murmured, his sonorous tone making Jim’s belly lurch pleasantly. ‘But I regret nonetheless that you were treated as such.’

‘Thanks,’ Jim said softly, his elbow tingling from the lingering warmth of his touch. He had only catnapped in the last few days, feeling too much under threat to relax, but now exhaustion fell upon him, his head heavy. Unsurprisingly, Spock noticed.

‘When did you last sleep soundly? There are bedrooms upstairs that you may use.’

Jim slumped in relief, but there was always – ‘What about Bones?’

‘I do not believe that my mother and the Doctor will be finished for a while yet,’ Spock told him, beginning to herd him slowly towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.

‘How do you know he’s a doctor?’

‘I overheard him tell my mother so during their introduction.’

Jim yawned widely, unable to stop himself. That was Bones taken care of, but there was still – 

‘My backpack is in the foyer,’ he groaned, making to turn around, but a gentle hand on his shoulder directed him back towards the staircase.

‘I shall bring it up later.’

‘Thanks,’ Jim whispered, forcing his leaden feet to climb. Spock patiently slowed his pace to match; yet another kindness Jim was grateful for. After a right turn and a short walk, Spock stopped in front of a nondescript door, placing the pad of his forefinger lightly on the screen beside it, and gestured for Jim to do so too.

‘It is now locked to both my fingerprint and yours, but if you prefer, I will remove my access rights.’

‘No, no, that’s fine,’ Jim said hurriedly, flashing him a tired smile. The door slid open, revealing what looked like a plush hotel room, complete with a bed large enough to stretch out on. Forgetting Spock was there, Jim ran forwards and dived onto it, briefly closing his eyes in pleasure at the softness beneath him.

‘I am glad that you approve,’ he heard, the inflection subtly amused.

Jim flushed and sat up, noticing that Spock was now by the foot of the bed.

‘Sorry about that.’

‘Do not be,’ Spock replied, his lips quirking ever so slightly. ‘It will certainly be more restful than sleeping out in the open. I shall leave you to rest.’

As Spock turned away, Jim called out, ‘Wait!’

He received a politely quizzical look, and felt heat rise to his face again.

‘Sorry, you don’t have to,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s just, I wanted to say that I feel- I feel drawn to you, I guess. Sorry. That’s weird, isn’t it? Forget I ever said anyth-’

‘It is not weird,’ Spock disagreed, his voice warping a little on the final word, as if it was something he rarely said. ‘It is highly unusual for me to have spoken with another so intimately – unprecedented even – especially considering the little time we have known one another. I… feel drawn to you also.’

‘Oh,’ Jim breathed, feeling a fluttering in his chest – and a pulse of heat in his stomach.

‘We can discuss this further in the morning. However, you must sleep now,’ Spock said firmly. Jim obediently shucked of his jacket, and toed off his shoes, too exhausted for anything else. ‘Goodnight, James.’

‘Night,’ Jim whispered, experiencing a strange thrill at the sound of his full name. Maybe it was just because Spock had said it though. He squirmed onto his stomach as the door hissed shut, heavy eyelids drooping shut. It was confusing, this want. This need. This… no. He couldn’t go any further, not yet. Still, what he did know is that Spock already meant more to him than some people he had known for years. He might not have been sure why, but it was the truth. And Spock… Spock seemed to feel the same. Deciding that he would ruminate on it in the morning, Jim drifted off with a smile tugging at his lips, hoping that, despite all the horror surrounding them, this would culminate in something truly special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! I've put it up for you early because I'd be too busy at the end of this week, with graduating university and whatnot. I've been wanting to write the boys meeting for ages, but I needed to build the plot first, so it wasn't too rushed. Anyway, please tell me what you think, and feel free to come and chat on my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	8. A Stoic Mind And A Bleeding Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuteness abound! Have I mentioned how much I love Amanda yet?

Stardate 2261.71. 1054 hours. KL interviewing AG.

It is not the first time that I have seen Amanda Grayson, but it is the first time that we have met. Her face absent of the righteous anger of the younger humans, she seems more like her son than I expected her to be – calm, poised, elegant. Perhaps it comes from half a lifetime living on Vulcan, or perhaps it is inherent in her. Maybe Spock really is his mother’s son. She has a softness about her, as evidenced by her gentle smile and motherly air, but I am also very aware of her fierce intelligence from the way she conducts herself. A high-achiever in her own right, I do not think it fair that her husband’s accolades should outshine her own. Speaking of whom, Sarek is due to pass through quarantine within the month. When I mention his name, her face lights up.

AG: Yes, it is rather earlier than we expected, and happily so. Both Spock and I have missed him dearly, and I know that he has missed us.

He knew that you were alive though.

AG: Because of the bond, yes. But he didn’t know whether Spock was, and I couldn’t communicate that to him. _[She frowns.]_ I could feel his distress about that, which was awful.

So he does feel?

_[The frown melts away, and Amanda’s lips form a wry smile.]_

AG: Oh, don’t tell me you believe that Vulcans are emotionless husks. That is surely the image they wish to portray, but it isn’t reality. _[The wry smile becomes something fonder.]_ Sarek and I married because we were in love – that is the short and long of it, whatever way it can be twisted into something ‘logical.’

I grew up believing that Vulcans were without emotions. They never show a thing.

AG: Not in public, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have emotions. Their emotions are actually stronger than our own, but when uncontrolled, they can become unmanageable. In ancient Vulcan, there were only warrior clans who allowed their baser emotions to rule them, resulting in so much death and destruction. When Surak came along, he preached a better Way, but sometimes... sometimes I believe that things were taken too far. Better safe than sorry, though.

And there’s no possibility of a happy medium?

AG: Potentially one day, but for now, que sera, sera. Or kaiidth, as is said on Vulcan. _[Her hands fall to her knees with a quiet slap.]_ Now. You wanted to talk about the boys arriving in Des Moines?

Yes. Jim told me that you looked after Doctor McCoy on the first day.

AG: _[She nods, frowning slightly]_ Thankfully, I cannot understand the pain of losing a child, but I can certainly imagine it. In those early days when Spock and I couldn’t communicate, I knew that he would come for me, and I prayed that he would find his way here intact. Leonard was in incredible pain, and I tried my best to empathise.

Meanwhile, what was happening with Jim?

AG: He and Spock were getting acquainted that first evening, but I know little more than that. He was settled in one of the rooms, and by the time Leonard was ready to drop, Spock told me that he’d been asleep for hours.

So you got on alright then?

AG: Oh yes, they’re both lovely boys. Very different of course – Jim is boisterous, Leonard is cantankerous, but lovely all the same. The first challenge we faced was with Nyota. She is one of my son’s best friends, and I love her dearly, but Spock never had many companions. When he and Jim connected so quickly and so strongly, I believe that she felt unsure about her place in his life.

She was jealous?

AG: Perhaps a little. More confused, I think. Still, that was hardly the greatest problem that we had.

What _was_ your greatest problem?

_[Amanda lets out a breathy laugh.]_

AG: Jim told us that he wanted to return to Starfleet Headquarters, and Spock agreed. The rest of us were a little more uncertain, but we acquiesced in due course. _[She smiles widely.]_ We were all individually rather attached to them, you see. There were no concrete plans made in haste, because they had all experienced the dangers of outside, and were in no great rush to experience it again soon. But we knew we must leave eventually, if only for their peace of mind.

Not yet though.

AG: Not quite yet. We’d all had enough trouble for a lifetime, and it had barely been a month and a half since the Plague began! We took a breather, got to know the boys, and made our plans – slowly – to leave.

* * *

The morning after the boys had arrived, Amanda slept in. Due to a combination of her demanding job, and having a Vulcan husband who could subsist on barely any sleep, she had grown used to waking almost with the sunrise, but after crying with Leonard the night before, she supposed that the emotional exhaustion had taken its toll. Spock had appeared silently, like a cat, after Leonard had left, and made a valiant attempt to comfort her. She had eventually convinced him that she just wanted to sleep, and he had picked up Jim’s bag, escorting her to her room. It had taken a long while to drop off though, even with the knowledge that she was surrounded by capable, trained adults. Nowhere truly felt safe. Not anymore.

Before the comms network had gone down, she had naïvely believed that it was a temporary outbreak, the hysteria around which the media had capitalised on. She had been dreadfully wrong. The situation had escalated so quickly that her chance to make alternative arrangements was lost. If only she had listened to Spock. To Sarek. They had both pleaded with her – as much as a Vulcan could plead – but she had stood firm, insistent on staying until the conference was over. She had worked so hard on those developments for the Universal Translator, and she didn’t want to be shunted aside by those vying to take her place. When the shockwave had reached them, with no transporter links or functional communicators, the few that remained had panicked – herself included. Most had left while they could, fleeing through the streets with whatever belongings they could carry. Amanda had never seen any of them again. Only she and Andrew had remained; he, without family, she, trying to remain alive for the sake of her husband and son. Of course, she knew how to use a phaser, but she had known that Spock would find her, and leaving would only have made doing so more difficult.

Still in that lazy half-asleep stage, she shifted in the warm duvet cocoon she had created overnight, rubbing her eyes. Someone would surely come looking for her soon, and it was most likely to be Spock. Since they had been reunited just over a fortnight ago, he had been particularly concerned with her wellbeing, and had taken to checking up on her with endearing regularity. Sure enough, fifteen minutes after her prediction, there came a quiet knock on her door.

‘Yes?’ she called, sitting up, and pulling the covers around her.

‘It is Spock.’

Amanda let a breath huff out of her nose in amusement.

‘Come in, darling.’

The door slid soundlessly open, and Spock stepped inside, straight-backed as ever. Only when the door closed behind him did he relax infinitesimally, the tiny slump to his shoulders going noticed, but unmentioned, by Amanda.

‘Good morning, kan-bu,’ she greeted, smiling at the wash of green that appeared on his cheeks.

‘Mother,’ he complained, arms that had been held behind his back falling to his sides. ‘I am not an infant.’

‘You’ll always be my baby, Spock,’ she said softly. The dark eyes he had inherited from her lowered, and he remained standing in his creaseless pants and the ratty old jumper she’d knitted for him a few years back, silent. To anybody else, he might simply have looked blank, but to her, he seemed lost. Still her conflicted boy, if a little older now. She patted the bed. ‘Come and sit with me, sweetheart. What’s the matter?’

As usual, he obeyed, coming to sit cross-legged on the bed beside her. She waited for him to speak, yet although his mouth opened, all she heard was his breath catch. Speechlessness was not something she had seen often in her son. She knew her worry wouldn’t help, so she was careful not to touch bare skin as she reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping that he would find the strength to confide in her.

‘Whatever it is, I’ll try my best to help, and I won’t judge you. You know that.’

She squeezed once, then let go. Spock nodded, silence reigning for a moment longer before he bit the bullet.

‘It is… Jim.’

‘Jim?’ Amanda questioned. ‘What about Jim?’

They had only known him for a day – nothing momentous could have happened already. Still, what she had seen of Jim, she had already become rather fond of. It rather helped that he had looked at Spock like some heavenly being. Alarm briefly took her as she considered that he might have been bitten, but then dismissed it, sure that she would have heard some commotion.

‘He is… I feel…’

He cut himself off again, and Amanda’s eyes widened. Spock very rarely admitted to having emotions, even to her. While he struggled, she attempted to guess what he was trying to convey to her, and all of a sudden, it clicked.

‘Spock?’ she asked carefully, anxious not to cause him to withdraw. ‘Do you… _like_ Jim?’

The wash of green from before returned to paint his cheekbones and the points of his ears, deeper this time.

‘This is unprecedented,’ he rasped, not making eye contact.

‘Oh, Spock, did you think I’d mind about you having a crush on a boy?’

She had long suspected that he was, if not gay, then at least bisexual. On the rare occasion that she had seen him watching his peers, his eyes had always lingered more on a handsome boy than a pretty girl, and she had seen no evidence to the contrary since.

‘Jim is above eighteen standard years of age, and therefore a man,’ Spock corrected primly. ‘But… it is more. There is a connection that I do not yet understand – but it has strengthened considerably in the short time we have been acquainted. He is little more than a stranger, and yet he is precious to me.’

 _Oh!_ Amanda beamed, meeting Spock’s bewildered stare with teary eyes. She had felt such a connection before, back when she was young and naïve, and a handsome Vulcan had locked eyes with her for the first time in Ontario.

‘Mother, why are you crying? I am sorry, I will not mention it again.’

He had begun to get to his feet, head bowed, so she reached forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him down into a hug. Confused though he may have been, he still clasped his arms around her as she held him tight, one hand cradling his head. If she was right about this, then her son was going to be very happy indeed. Eventually, with a watery laugh, she partially released him, still holding his forearms.

‘I’m crying because I’m happy for you, darling,’ she told him, letting one hand rise to smooth the hair she had displaced. He endured the petting with only a faint air of ‘unhappy brushed cat’, and blinked at her, apparently still not understanding. ‘If this is what I think it is, Jim is going to become more important to you than you could ever imagine. I felt a similar connection to your father when we met.’

Spock’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked more overwhelmed than pleased.

‘Jim told me that he felt the same,’ he admitted, hesitating before the completion of his sentence, ‘but it is entirely possible that he will not consider me to be an adequate romantic partner.’

‘Spock, by the way he was looking at you yesterday, I’d say that possibility is rather remote,’ she teased, laughing as he ducked his head in embarrassment once more. ‘Besides, considering what he told you, it would only be logical for him to feel the same way.’

Spock raised his head, and an eyebrow along with it.

‘Humans rarely adhere to logic.’

‘No, we don’t,’ she replied, emphasising the ‘we’. She knew that it was her fault, and Sarek’s fault, that he so often forgot his human side, having raised him to be as Vulcan as possible in order to cause him the least pain and isolation. Unfortunately, it had had little effect on the venom directed towards him, and their unhappy little boy had grown into an unhappy, conflicted man. In hindsight, perhaps raising him on Terra would have been a better option, but would he have experienced the same hatred as on Vulcan? Less so, she thought. What was done, was done, however, and she could not help but be secretly pleased that he felt this way about a human. Jim seemed open, and friendly, and maybe he could bring Spock out of his shell.

Her musings were interrupted by Spock’s quiet murmur of, ‘Do you think that Sa-mekh will disapprove?’

Oh, Spock. He still didn’t trust that Sarek would support him, and to be fair, Amanda couldn’t blame him. Despite what she had shown him in the meld upon his arrival, actions spoke louder than words, and Sarek had made his mistakes in not showing Spock the love he felt for him.

‘He will be happy for you, as any parent would upon their child finding a bondmate – especially if it is a love match.’

She could see that Spock still didn’t believe her; perhaps he would in time. Nevertheless, he seemed rather flustered.

‘I have not yet ascertained whether Jim feels a similar way,’ he reminded her, tripping over his words in an atypical fashion, ‘let alone requested a bond. I do not wish to frighten him. You must not jump to conclusions, mother.’

‘Hmm, perhaps you’re right,’ she sighed. He wasn’t. She knew a developing bond when she saw one, and she was quite certain of what Spock had described. Only total mental compatibility – and the deep emotional connection that came with it – could have brought Jim and her son together so quickly, and so strongly. ‘Still, I’m hopeful. What are you doing this morning?’

‘Nyota wishes to speak to me. Then I plan on discussing our situation with Jim and Doctor McCoy, as they may have more information about what remains of Starfleet.’

‘Leonard had a difficult night, so I assume he’ll sleep in,’ Amanda reminded him. ‘And while you speak with Nyota, I’ll talk to Jim.’

Spock’s eyebrow went skywards.

‘For what purpose?’

‘Oh, just to try and _ascertain_ what he feels for you.’

‘Mother, please do not-’

‘Embarrass you?’ Amanda asked, her own eyebrow matching his. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be subtle. It will be a friendly… interrogation.’

Spock continued to eye her suspiciously, but nodded in acceptance nonetheless. He began to rise from the bed, raggedy sleeves hanging adorably low on his hands.

‘Perhaps we can reconvene later to discuss your findings?’

Amanda grinned.

‘Of course, sweetheart. I’ll tell you everything I know.’

‘I assume you are referring to what you will know about Jim’s emotions, rather than every piece of knowledge you could possibly impart.’

‘Quite so,’ she replied, her smile undimmed. ‘Try and reassure Nyota that you will still be her friend, Spock. Her feelings will fade in time, but she isn’t quite used to sharing you yet.’

‘Did she speak with you regarding her feelings for me?’ Spock frowned.

‘No, dear. It’s plain to all and sundry, I’m afraid.’

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, and his hand was reaching for the door release when she called to him once more. He half-turned, tugging unconsciously on his sleeve.

‘I still want those grandbabies when this is all over,’ she demanded, laughing unrestrainedly when a deep flush settled upon him. ‘I don’t care how, but I want them.’

Muttering a hasty goodbye, Spock left her to her giggle fit, which went on far too long for the dignified wife of a Vulcan ambassador. Oh well. Sarek had never seemed to mind.

When she had eventually calmed down, she reluctantly left her warm duvet cocoon for the cooler air outside it, shivering in her thin pyjamas. She took care of business in the bathroom, taking a long water shower before dressing in comfy jeans and a faded, old t-shirt with a map of Herculaneum on it. Sarek hadn’t understood the appeal when she’d brought it back from a trip with her sister, but she had worn it so often that most of the words written upon it were illegible. As she forced a brush through her knotted hair, she considered the possibility of her sister and her family having survived. Her heart clenched as she recalled how little time she had spent with them all, light years away from each new infant born and every birthday celebrated. Throughout her marriage, despite the love she had so gratefully received from Sarek and Spock, she had missed them terribly, craving human laughter, human acceptance, and human emotion. With Sarek so often away, and Spock having flown the nest for Starfleet, her only company had generally been those who despised her – except for when she travelled herself. She had chosen that life, though, and for all its faults, she would not change it for anything.

Putting Sophie to the back of her mind, she put down the brush and left her room, immediately realising that she had no idea which one Jim would be in. Spock’s room was across from hers, and Nyota’s to the left of his. Deciding that Spock would want him close, she knocked on the right.

‘One minute!’ she heard, unmistakeably Jim’s voice. She heard a strange shuffle-thud repeat itself, getting louder, and then the door came open to reveal Jim balanced on one booted foot. The other hovered precariously in the air as he wobbled, holding a sock.

‘Oh, Amanda. Hi!’ he smiled, looking a little bewildered. ‘Sorry- sorry about- uh. Come in.’

After one wobble during which his arms windmilled, he hopped quickly back over to the bed and dropped onto it, putting on his sock before beginning on the other boot. Amanda followed him inside, letting the door close behind her.

‘Are you alright? Is Spock?’

She heard the subtle softness in Jim’s voice when he spoke Spock’s name, and it made her heart glow. Endearingly rumpled, his hair sticking up in tufts, Jim finally managed to tug his boot on and laced it up, tilting his head up in question.

‘We’re both fine, dear,’ she assured him. ‘I just thought we could go for a walk.’

‘Me and you? Sure! Where’s Sp- never mind.’

He got to his feet, and ducked his head, likely having realised that he had now brought Spock into the conversation twice in under a minute. Amused, Amanda patted him on the arm, and led him from the room.

‘Nyota wanted a little chat, but I don’t think they’ll be very long,’ she explained, ‘Spock very much wants to speak to you though.’

‘Oh, really?’ he asked, nonchalant, but the flush upon his cheeks was telling. She felt the urge to flatten down his hair as they stepped into the corridor, and as if sensing her thoughts, Jim did it himself a moment later, looking to her for guidance.

‘Let’s go this way,’ she suggested, setting a slow pace. ‘Yes, it’s very strange to see him so interested in someone. Especially so quickly.’

‘Interested?’

Jim looked rather hopeful when he glanced at her, and she nodded.

‘Yes, very interested.’

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, turning the corner to pass by the top entrance to one of the lecture halls. Amanda knew that it could hold 300 at a push, and the steel door was shut for a reason. She didn’t like to look upon the vast emptiness of a space that had once been filled with dozens of delegates and hundreds of visiting students. With conscious effort, she turned her thoughts away from what would surely lead to misery, and back to Jim. She watched him discreetly out of the corner of her eye, his open posture and confident stride belying the nerves she had seen last night when he and Spock had met. As little as she knew of Jim, she trusted Spock’s judgement, and if Spock was invested enough in one day that he had come to speak with her about him, he must be something special. Of course, he was rather easy on the eye too, which was no disadvantage. Blond-haired with bright blue eyes, and a smile that was charming enough to melt the underwear off a snowman, Jim was certainly gifted in the looks department.

Now… how to get out of him what he felt for Spock? Amanda was still considering her options when Jim spoke, his gratitude tangible –

‘Thanks for looking after Bones last night. We don’t- we don’t really talk about it.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ Amanda said graciously, taking the opportunity to check something that had just occurred to her. ‘You two are friends? Partners?’

‘Just friends,’ Jim confirmed, as quickly as she had hoped. ‘He’s not into men, and I’m not into guys who call me kid.’

Relieved, Amanda smiled, taking them down a set of ornate stairs and past the dining hall.

‘But you are into men.’

‘Yeah, sometimes. Is that a problem?’

His sudden unease was palpable, muscles visibly tightening, and she rushed to reassure him.

‘No, no, of course not. Spock seems to have a preference for men.’

‘He does?’ Jim squeaked, flushing as she started. ‘Sorry. That’s, uh, interesting.’

‘Interesting?’

Amanda slowed her pace, and came to a stop in between the two doors leading into the dining hall, Jim, though evidently confused, stopping with her.

‘Look, I’m just going to cut to the chase, alright?’ she sighed. At his befuddled nod, she continued, ‘What do you think of Spock?’

His cheeks immediately went pink, but he made a weak attempt to fob her off.

‘I like him, yeah. Everything that I’ve seen so far, I like. I mean-’ his blush darkened, ‘of his personality. Yeah. He’s great.’

‘Mhmm. And you haven’t experienced anything strange that you otherwise wouldn’t have done?’

Jim’s brow furrowed, though it seemed more in confusion than in anger.

‘Yeah, actually. Has he talked to you about it?’

‘A little,’ Amanda admitted, leaning back against the wooden panels behind her, ‘but I’d like to hear it from your perspective.’

Jim nodded, eyes drifting away from hers as he stuck his hands in the pockets of the red Academy hoodie he wore. For a moment, she thought that he seemed uncomfortable, but from his relaxed body language she inferred that he was merely pensive, considering his answer.

‘It’s… It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before,’ he said softly, cutting into the silence that had previously been broken only by the faint hum of the replicators in the dining hall. His eyes, wide and sincere, met hers once more. ‘It’s been a day, but I feel like I’ve known him all my life. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?’

He snorted in self-derision, shaking his head.

‘It’s not ridiculous at all,’ she soothed, affection welling in her as he bared his insecurity. ‘Spock certainly seems to feel the same way, though he’s guarded about his emotions, even with me.’

‘He does?’ Jim asked breathlessly, the naked hope in his face startling in its intensity.

‘He does,’ she confirmed. Jim’s answering smile was dazzling – and contagious. She found herself beaming along with him, hopeful for a son-in-law who she would be able to emote freely around. ‘Jim, I think that you two should talk. Such a connection is not a common thing, and I should know.’

He cocked his head in question, but she merely smiled in response, aware that she’d probably interfered too much already.

‘Talk to Spock, Jim. I’m not sure when Nyota and he will be finished, but we tend to meet at 1200 in the dining hall for lunch.’

‘Okay, thanks. I want to see Bones anyway – see how he is this morning. He can have really bad ones if he’s thinking about Jojo.’

Although Jim was the one to mention her, as soon as her name left his mouth, he became more subdued. Amanda knew very little about the child’s passing, not having wanted to increase Leonard’s distress when he so obviously wanted to talk about the joy she had brought to him in life. Now she wondered whether Joanna and Jim had been close. He was looking at the ground, the very picture of misery, but when Amanda placed her hand gently on his arm, he jerked, looking up.

‘I hope that time will bring you both peace,’ she said, trying her best to communicate her sincerity.  ‘You’re here, you’re safe, and I know that Spock is particularly fond of you. There's light in the darkness yet.’

He inclined his head, a smile flitting across his face. His sadness made her chest ache, and the force of her reaction surprised her. Who was this man that he had drawn visible emotion from Spock, and such strong parental instincts from her?

‘Thank you,’ he eventually replied, reminding her of Spock in the subtle warmth that invaded his tone. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he shoved his hands back in his pockets. ‘I guess I’ll go find Bones. You coming back upstairs?’

‘No, I’ve got something to do first.’ _Like find my son and tell him everything you’ve told me._ ‘Go ahead, dear. I’ll see you at lunchtime.’

‘See you then,’ Jim smiled, setting off back the way they had come. Amanda watched him go with unbridled affection, watched him take the stairs two by two, boots thudding heavy on wood, and then went looking for her son.

She found him in the botanical gardens, staring intently at a patch of nondescript plants. There was nobody left here who knew enough about botany to properly tend them, but luckily, the automated system which attended to their basic needs was still running.

‘Looking for some flowers to give to Jim?’ she teased as she came up behind him. He didn’t start, his hearing sensitive enough that he had probably heard her entering the room, but she saw the tips of his ears go faintly green. She chuckled as he turned around, matching his petulant expression with an amused one of her own. ‘How was Nyota?’

‘She is, I believe, discomforted,’ Spock answered, leaning ever so slightly against the table behind him. ‘It is understandable, and I am endeavouring to reassure her of my friendship.’

‘Good. From what you’ve told me, she’s been an amazing friend to you.’

‘She was the first person to reach out to me,’ Spock said quietly, and his eyes, so like hers, showed an old pain. She remembered him returning from the learning pods with that same look, too often with a bloodied lip and bruises forming beneath his eyes, and cupped his cheek.

‘I know, sweetheart.’ She stroked his cheek with her thumb, then let her hand fall, not wanting to overwhelm him. ‘She was your first friend, and things will get back to normal between you two soon, I promise. Now, guess who I’ve been talking to?’

‘Jim, I suspect,’ he deadpanned, but Amanda could sense eagerness in him, and her lips quirked.

‘Oh, don’t pretend you’re not interested,’ she said, as she pulled her t-shirt out from where its hem had bunched against the top of her jeans. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer. He said that he liked you – he said that he feels like he’s known you all his life. What do you think about that?’

Spock’s expression was carefully blank, but he blinked rather more rapidly than usual.

‘I think that I am experiencing the same… alignment. He said nothing more of emotion?’

The question was asked lightly, but a hint of desperation coloured it, and Amanda rushed to reassure him.

‘Actually, I’m almost certain that he feels the same way as you do. He blushed a lot for a man speaking of someone he wanted to merely befriend, and seemed very pleased when I told him that you were interested in him. That young man has quite a crush on you, Spock, if not more.’

One of Spock’s tiny half-smiles was playing about his lips, barely visible to someone who wasn’t searching for it, and yet, he still felt the need to confirm – ‘You are quite certain?’

‘Positive,’ Amanda asserted, deciding to hedge her bets. ‘I also said that he should speak to you, and- oh.’

Her eye caught the chronometer, reading 1145. She swore softly, to Spock’s apparent dismay.

‘It’ll have to be after lunch now. He’s meeting us in the dining hall at 1200.’

‘Is he aware of its location?’

‘He is, but feel free to escort him,’ Amanda teased. ‘He and Leonard should be in Leonard’s room.’

‘For what reason?’ Spock demanded, the flash of jealousy in his expression clear.

‘They’re _friends_ , Spock,’ she answered patiently, making clear the emphasis on the word. ‘Nothing more. I asked Jim. Now go on, jealous boy. I shall see you in 15 minutes.’

‘Fourteen. I am not jealous.’

‘Whatever you say, dear.’

There came no retaliation but the closure of Spock’s open mouth, and his immediate exit. Amanda was making quite a habit of laughing to herself. When she had calmed down, she settled back against one of the raised flower beds and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh oxygen she imagined she could detect. Without the distractions of work, she had lots of time to herself, and it brought along with it frequent melancholy. She missed her husband’s arms around her. Who knew how long they would be apart for? Months? Years? If she should die on Terra, she wondered how he would cope, because the breaking of their bond would surely be agony. Pon farr was yet six years away, but it was possible that she would not be able to reach him to slake the flames. For all Sarek’s faults, for all his exasperating stubbornness, she knew that he loved her and their child deeply. When she had been pregnant with Spock, Sarek had lain beside her for hours, a hand resting on the swell of her belly, building a bond with their son. She remembered feeling the powerful surge of his love grow along with her stomach, cresting with Spock’s birth. That love had never been lost, never faded, even if Spock was uncertain about it. She was sure that if they ever managed to see Sarek again, he would make sure to correct that uncertainty.

She could feel Sarek’s presence in the recesses of her mind as a constant warmth, dimmer perhaps than it would have been if she had been on Vulcan, but a comfort nonetheless. Helpless to contact him in any other way, she gathered all the affection she could muster, pushing it towards that warmth and feeling a gentle pulse of love in reply. Yes, Sarek loved them, and if she couldn’t get to him right now, she would concentrate on Spock. Her boy had always deserved to be happy, but had rarely been provided with the chance. With Jim, he did, and in spite of the horror that surrounded them, Amanda would try her absolute best to draw them together, for both their sakes. She glanced up at the chronometer again: 1154. Time to go. Tucking a flyaway hair behind her ears, she made her way out of the gardens, determined to help the boys in any way she could. Not that she thought that they would _need_ much help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you get yet another early update, because I'm visiting a friend for a few days. Surprise! I really hope you guys liked it. I might not get to your reviews for a little while if you leave them after tonight, because I hate answering on mobile, but please don't let that put you off leaving them altogether! I truly appreciate every view, kudos and comment I get :) Feel free to come and check me out on [Tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) <3


	9. Like The Dawn, You Broke The Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited to see what you guys think of this chapter! Warnings for sexual content, but not quite perhaps what you're hoping for yet :)

Stardate 2261.71. 1503 hours. KL interviewing STS.

After speaking with his mother this morning, I feel that I understand Spock’s behaviour a little more. If Vulcans have emotions that are stronger than our own, then I can’t imagine how he must have felt in the midst of the danger on Terra. It also explains the need for such control – and how difficult that control must have been to implement at times. I have never thought myself prone to xenophobia, but I find my own ignorance about the Vulcan people shameful. This time, when Spock sits down in such a way that I think the rigidity must be leaving him in pain, I try not to think anything of it. I do, however, wonder about the purple glitter upon his sleeve, which he brushes off when I point it out. He does not provide an explanation.

Your father will be here within the month. What do you think about that?

_[His expression is as static and blank as a wall of slate, but I am sure that I saw something pass through his eyes. Fear? Anxiety?]_

STS: His presence will not be displeasing.

_[It is said stiffly, even for him.]_

That’s a pretty lukewarm response. I mean, you haven’t seen him since before this started, right?

STS: That is correct. I believe my father would agree that there is no need for overtures.

I’m guessing you guys don’t get on very well.

STS: That is irrelevant.

Your mother seems excited to see him.

STS: She is. Bondmates are rarely apart for any great length of time due to the detriment it may have upon their wellbeing.

Starfleet can’t separate bondmates, can they?

STS: No, they cannot. Vulcans have numerous bond forms, but the most important is undeniably that of marriage. My mother has suffered in the absence of my father, and I am sure that Sarek has also. _[He has begun to look uncomfortable.]_ I believe that you wished to speak about events on Terra.

Yes, I do. Your mother mentioned that you and Jim spent some time together when he first arrived.

STS: Yes.

But you didn’t know him from the Academy.

STS: I did not. He did not take any of the classes that I taught, and we moved in different social circles. I had, of course, previously heard _of_ him.

And what did you think of what you heard?

_[He is definitely uncomfortable now.]_

STS: I could not cast aspersions on the character of a person I had not before encountered.

Ah, so you’d heard bad things?

STS: _[gives me a hard stare]_   Whatever negative rumours may have been disseminated about Jim at the Academy were, and are, incorrect.

_[If I was previously intimidated by Spock, it is nothing compared to now. For self-preservation purposes, I alter my line of questioning.]_

So what did you think of Jim when he arrived in Des Moines?

STS: I found him engaging, compassionate, and brilliant. Nyota was already acquainted with he and Leonard, which assuaged my initial concerns, and I felt immediately that I did not have to alter my behaviour around Jim.

That must have been a relief.

STS: It was certainly unprecedented for me to trust so easily. Jim, however, is unique in most ways. I have never met such an extraordinary individual before or since – nor do I ever expect to.

* * *

It was illogical to experience dread, and yet when Nyota had asked to speak with Spock the morning after Jim and Doctor McCoy had arrived, her reaction to himself and Jim the night before did not inspire confidence in the positivity of their impending conversation. He did not wish to hurt her - in any capacity - but it was evident that his actions may render that unavoidable. Nevertheless, he thought it necessary to choose his words carefully, and after he had spoken with his mother that morning, he decided to take extra care. Fortunately, his caution seemed relatively unneeded. That morning, they met in the classroom in which Andrew had died, his body now buried in the quadrangle within the complex. Nyota asked him what he thought of Jim, and although he was wary of her response, he was honest with her. She was quiet for a long time after he had finished, rolling a ball of elastic bands she had found between her hands. Contrary to the explosive reaction he had perhaps anticipated, the only negative response he registered was the downwards pull of her lips, her bowed head concealing the remainder of her expression.

‘I kind of wanted to ignore it, you know,’ she said eventually, quiet and despondent. ‘The way you looked at him last night…’

Her words trailed off with a choked breath, and she began unravelling the ball in his hands, band by band. Spock could think of nothing to say in return. It was not the first time that his lack of human understanding had proved inadequate, but it was particularly jarring in the wake of Nyota’s evident anguish. He watched in silence as her head lifted and her eyes filled with tears, errant moisture escaping despite her rapid blinking.

‘I am sorry,’ he offered, aware that it would likely be no consolation.

‘Don’t be. You can’t choose how you feel.’ A brittle smile forced its way onto her face, with obvious little substance behind it. ‘You’re my friend, first and foremost. I want you to be happy, even if it hurts right now.’

‘Thank you.’

The words had hardly more utility than his apology, but he could offer no more. Hopping down from the table she had sat on, Nyota wiped her eyes, and surrendered the half-destroyed elastic band ball to the desk beside her.

‘I’m going to go back to the library,’ she murmured, already halfway to the door. ‘There’s a few books on Tellarite syntax which I want a look at. See you at lunch, yeah?’

‘Yes.’

She lingered in the doorway, looking back at him, her gaze searching. Perhaps she found what she was waiting for; perhaps not. Spock did not know, but she turned and left nonetheless, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor of the corridor.

While her evident misery had not been pleasing to him, Spock’s focus had invariably turned to Jim, and after the conversation with his mother in the botanical gardens, he was more hopeful about Jim’s feelings towards him. Seeing him for the first time had been a glorious shock, setting a fire within - the like of which Spock had never before experienced. When he had heard the commotion from outside, his intentions had purely been driven by the purpose of saving lives, but the moment he and Jim had locked eyes, he had felt a paradigm shift. Jim, bright and beautiful even in disarray, a developing scar upon his cheek, had inspired a protectiveness in him that he did not understand. Spock had attempted to conceal his sudden investment in a stranger beneath a façade of perfect Vulcan control, but he had found himself inadvertently staring at the beauty before him, the brilliance of his blue eyes unlike anything he had ever seen.

His confusion had only grown when Nyota had arrived, and her enthusiastic greeting had caused an unpleasant sensation of jealousy – regarding Nyota’s embrace of Jim rather than the other way round. The revelation of Jim’s identity was unexpected, but otherwise irrelevant. Of course, he knew of James Tiberius Kirk, the son of George, who had sacrificed his life for the continuation of those of his crewmates. However, for some reason, the gossip that had circulated at the Academy regarding his exploits had become abruptly less believable upon their meeting. Spock wanted to know everything about this man, and his early morning conversation with his mother had perhaps revealed why. A connection. A bond? It was true that potential bondmates often felt drawn together, but rarely with the intensity that he had been drawn towards Jim.

Now, he craved more contact with the man who could potentially be his mate, and when he entered the dining hall, he felt warmth in his chest as he discovered Jim and the Doctor already there. They were conversing, but when he was twenty feet from them with salad in hand, Jim turned to him, his face brightening.

‘Hi,’ he beamed, and for some reason, Doctor McCoy rolled his eyes.

Spock sat across from Jim, returning his enthusiastic greeting quietly. ‘Good day.’

‘You two make me wanna puke.’

‘If you feel the need to vomit, there are a number of appropriate receptacles in the vicinity,’ Spock informed McCoy, eyes softening in response to Jim’s ensuing bark of laughter.

‘Holy Hannah, you’re as bad as him,’ McCoy complained, stabbing his finger at Jim’s grinning face. ‘Does that sass come from your mother, Spock?’

Before Spock could make a reply, his mother’s voice interjected –

‘I’m afraid that most Vulcans have a talent for it.’ She sat to the left of Spock, across from Doctor McCoy, and placed a bowl of soup on the table as she did so. ‘Though it’s possible that my genes also contributed.’

‘Lord, give me strength,’ McCoy whispered, snatching a slice of pizza from Jim’s plate.

‘Hey!’

‘You’re on a diet, remember?’

‘For what reason?’ Spock asked, spearing a lettuce leaf on his fork, and tilting his head at Jim. ‘You are not overweight.’

‘See! Spock doesn’t think I’m fat,’ Jim huffed, taking a slice of ham from McCoy’s plate in retaliation. ‘Do you think I’m fat, Amanda?’

‘Of course not, dear.’

‘See, _they_ love me,’ Jim pouted, one hand now so close to Spock’s on the table that it would have been all too easy to reach out with two fingers to meet his. Spock wondered how warm those fingers would feel against his own, how soft Jim’s skin would feel when stroked, the friction between them sending electricity sparking through him. As he stared at the space between their hands, Jim’s knee brushed against his beneath the table, and Spock had to clamp down on the full-body jerk that the sensation almost elicited. If he reacted so strongly to a mere accidental brush, then what sort of a response might occur if they were to touch properly?

‘Look, I’m not saying you’re fat, Jim, just that you have the body type to-’

‘Who’s saying Jim’s fat?’ Nyota asked, dropping into the seat at Spock’s right.

_‘No one.’_

Doctor McCoy seemed rather agitated, his face reddening in a most peculiar exhibition of rage. To Spock’s dismay, Jim reached up and stroked McCoy’s cheek, crooning nonsense.

‘Get off me, brat,’ McCoy growled, slapping his hands away. Spock did not appreciate the way he put his hands on Jim, but as Jim continued smiling, he let the issue lie.

‘Don’t be a grumpypants, Bonesy.’

McCoy grunted in reply, and after a sweet smile at Spock which made him hyperaware of his fluttering heart, Jim directed his attentions towards Nyota.

‘I was meaning to ask you yesterday, but I forgot. I don’t suppose you know anything about Gaila? Janice and Christine? Chris Pike?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Nyota sighed, dropping bread crusts onto her plate. ‘Gaila took off with Vina to find her brother, and never came back. The last I heard of Janice and Chrissie was that they were in Vegas, but then the comms network went down. As for Captain Pike – well, I barely knew him. He has a family, doesn’t he?’

‘He has a wife,’ Jim muttered, tearing apart his pizza rather than eating it. ‘Her name is Angela, but we call her Number One, because she was his First. God, I hope Chris is okay. I hope they’re all okay.’

Silence descended, and while it may not have bothered Spock, he was aware that the humans might find it uncomfortable. He was almost finished with his salad, but Jim appeared to have lost his appetite, shifting his remaining food around his plate with his fork.

‘Jim, may I speak with you?’ he asked, finding Jim’s slow-growing smile rather pleasant.

‘Sure,’ Jim replied, standing, and taking both of their plates in hand. Spock thanked him. ‘I guess we’ll see you later, guys. What time is dinner?’

‘We usually eat around 1800,’ Amanda informed him, and Jim nodded, tipping the remainder of their lunch into the waste disposal. Spock placed a hand lightly upon her shoulder in farewell, nodding to Nyota (who seemed rather downcast), and Doctor McCoy (who seemed rather amused), before following Jim out of the door.

‘Your mom mentioned you wanted to talk,’ Jim said shyly, once they had left the hall. ‘I… I want to talk too.’

Spock found himself somewhat tongue-tied, nervous even. He was not used to engaging in discussions of friendship, let alone romantic entanglements. He was also acutely aware that moving too fast could damage their prospective relationship irreparably.

‘Yes,’ he found himself answering. ‘I would like to learn more about you, Jim.’

Such a common name, and yet Spock found it pleasing to say, particularly when Jim flushed prettily, the apex of his cheekbones colouring.

‘Well, what do you want to know?’

 _Everything,_ Spock’s mind supplied, but he realised that such an answer could well be a repellent. As they walked together down towards the foyer, he found that he had struggled for an answer for too long, and now Jim was regarding him with concern.

‘I apologise for my inadequacy,’ he murmured. ‘I do not often converse with others for recreational purposes.’

‘Hey, you’re not inadequate!’ Jim caught him by the arm, forcing him to stop. Iridescent eyes bored into his as the hand upon his arm squeezed, leaving Spock craving further contact. ‘Seriously, I don’t care what anyone else has ever said. It’s okay if you’re a little unsure – hell, even I am right now. How about I start by talking about some stuff I like, and then you can tell me what you like?’

Spock nodded, and they began walking again. To his dismay, he seemed to have forgotten every area of interest that he had, apart from Jim.

‘Um, alright. I love books. Real paper ones, ones that you can hold.’

An endearing predilection, Spock thought, and decided to lead them towards the library.

‘Is there any particular reason for your preference?’

‘I just like the feel of them in my hands,’ Jim explained, holding his palms up as if he held a book in them. ‘The weight, you know? And there’s nothing like the smell of books, especially those that are newly-printed. My dad had a big collection, and I grew up reading them. They were my consolation when things got bad.’

‘Bad?’ Spock echoed.

Jim convulsive swallow was audible, his head ducking.

‘Yeah, I-I didn’t have the easiest time of it when I was younger. I know that sounds ridiculous, especially since everyone seems to think I was this pampered little prince, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t.’

He ended in a whisper, arms crossed across his chest with his fingers curling into his palms. It was closed-off and defensive, and Spock did not like how upset Jim seemed.

‘Do you wish to talk about it?’ he asked, his hand twitching as he made an abortive attempt at comfort. ‘I am perfectly willing to listen.’

Jim was shaking his head before Spock had begun his second sentence, a small, pained smile on his lips.

‘It’s fine, thanks though. Some stuff, I can’t- I just can’t.’

Spock inclined his head in acceptance, respecting Jim’s decision not to disclose, even if he wanted to help him.

‘What else do you enjoy?’

‘Lots of stuff! I like bikes – motorbikes – and things like that. Um. History? Especially 20th century. Oh, and xenolinguistics! There’s probably loads more, but I can’t- Oh my God.’

Spock had subtly diverted them towards the library, and as he pushed open the heavy oak doors, Jim stared, enraptured, at the endless rows of filled shelves.

‘Spock, this is perfect,’ he said, tone hushed, almost reverent. Spock gained unique pleasure from the unrestrained joy on Jim’s face as he reached the first stack and trailed a finger down the battered spine of an old book. ‘Thank you.’

‘You are welcome.’

He was content to watch as Jim perused the shelves, but before long, Jim returned with a leather-bound book in hand, and a contrite expression.

‘Sorry, that was really rude,’ he apologised, and before Spock could demur, continued, ‘What kind of stuff do you like?’

Thankfully, coherent thought had returned to Spock since his moment of blankness in the corridor, and he already had an answer prepared.

‘I am trained in various forms of combat – specifically, Suus Mahna, and combat utilising the lirpa and ahn-woon.’

‘What are those?’

‘Suus Mahna is the primary Vulcan martial art,’ Spock explained, the title ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’ catching his eye as Jim curled the book against his chest. ‘I have a lirpa in my possession, and will show you later if you wish. The ahn-woon is simply a leather strap with weighted extremities.’

‘Awesome! I’d love to see the lirpa later,’ Jim grinned. Spock was rather concerned by the effect Jim’s smiles had on him, considering their frequency. ‘What else do you like?’

‘I find classical music to be acceptable, particularly that which is human.’

‘Oh yeah? You play anything?’

‘The piano and the Vulcan lute.’

‘Wow. You’ll have to play for me,’ Jim insisted, taking him by the arm to pull him over to the seating area by the door. ‘I bet there’s a piano here somewhere!’

Spock had not yet discovered a piano, and would have told Jim had the grip on his arm not been so distracting. The warmth radiating through Spock’s sleeve was intoxicating, and it required more restraint than should be expended to prevent himself from taking Jim into his arms. Patience was required. Jim directed him not into one of the armchairs, but onto the large, comfortable sofa, and sat next to him. Their proximity did not contribute positively to Spock’s control.

‘Tell me more,’ Jim said, and Spock did.

During their discussion, they discovered a common interest in particle physics, and also, remarkably, in chess. As soon as Spock mentioned that it was a pastime that he often engaged in, Jim’s face brightened, and he pointed to the set plainly visible in the corner.

‘Wanna play?’

‘Of course.’

Spock was already keenly aware of Jim’s intelligence, but – perhaps arrogantly – he had not expected that Jim would be a difficult opponent. He was wrong. From the beginning of their first match, Jim was moving his pieces in a haphazard way, which Spock inferred was due to his novice status. This conclusion was invalidated, however, when he found himself checkmated fifteen minutes later. He stared at the board, which was largely devoid of any indications of strategy, and then up into Jim’s face. Jim wore a smug grin, which might have annoyed him had it been present on the face of any other.

‘I do not understand.’

‘Didn’t think I could do it, did you?’ Jim accused, pouting.

‘It is not my intention to seem patronising,’ Spock assured him. ‘It is only that your playing style is unlike any other I have ever seen.’

Jim’s lips curled into another smile – one that Spock had not seen before. It was gentle, indulgent even, and like all Jim’s expressions of joy, it was immediately coveted.

‘That’s because I don’t have a style, Spock. I play like I think; it’s instinctive, chaotic at times, but it all comes together at the end.’

‘Your strategy… is that you have no strategy,’ Spock muttered. This should not have surprised him. Jim was an enigma, from the rapidity with which he had gained Spock’s affections, to his wide range of divergent abilities and interests, and this was merely another facet of brilliance.

‘Exactly,’ Jim said softly, taking hold of Spock’s king between finger and thumb, and placing it back in its starting position. His foot grazed Spock’s ankle beneath the table. ‘Want to play another game?’

‘I believe that I would find that enlightening,’ Spock replied, inwardly delighting at Jim’s quiet laugh.

They set the board up once more, and in the 3.68 hours remaining before dinner, Spock managed to redeem himself, winning three games to Jim’s two. He was unwilling to leave the library, having enjoyed Jim’s private company so thoroughly, but at 1750, he reluctantly drew Jim’s attention to the time.

‘Is it that time already?’ Jim asked, his face falling. ‘Dammit. We’d better go before someone comes to find us, I guess.’

It seemed that Jim was as reluctant as he was to leave, and that reinforced Spock’s tentative belief that Jim might reciprocate his feelings. It was a heady possibility. As they tidied away the chess set, Jim reached for one of his pieces, and accidentally brushed their fingers together. Spock drew in a sharp breath at the shock of pleasure elicited by the friction against his sensitive fingertips. Jim immediately snatched his hand back, blushing.

‘Sorry. Sorry. It was an accident. I- oh.’

Somewhere between the startling pleasure of their touch, and Jim’s panicked contrition, Spock had gained confidence, and in a sudden bold move, he reached out and purposefully pressed the pads of his index and middle fingers against those on Jim’s upturned hand. Jim’s breath caught despite his differing physiology, and through their point of contact, Spock could sense his joy, and his affection. They remained still, fingers pressed together for a long moment, and Spock swallowed in sudden uncertainty. He was woefully inexperienced, and did not want to frighten Jim away with overt gestures. Fortunately, Jim took control, eyes fixed on Spock’s as he gently, slowly rubbed his fingers against his. Spock’s lips parted at the exquisite soft drag, a ragged breath escaping him, eyes partially closing at the unfamiliar sensation. Jim’s intent gaze did not falter, as steady and still as the movements of his fingers were dynamic, drawing nonsense patterns up and down the length of Spock’s own, circling lightly over the whorls at his fingertips. Spock felt weak, desire slowly, slowly beginning to burn within…

‘Jim, for God’s sake, we got here _yesterday!’_

Doctor McCoy’s grating voice echoed around the room, leaving Spock’s newly-born desire withering in its wake. He pulled his hand back from underneath Jim’s, and avoided both their eyes.

‘But we weren’t- we were just-’

‘Yeah, I know exactly what you were _‘just’._ Dinner, now.’

Spock’s fingers tightened against the seat of his chair as McCoy slammed the door behind him, shame beginning to take hold.

‘I apologise for my inappropriate behaviour,’ he said woodenly, gaze on his lap. ‘The fault for this incident was mine.’

‘What fault? Spock, you didn’t do anything wrong! If anyone did, it was me, because I went too far. I know I did. I’m sorry.’

Spock shook his head, managing to catch Jim’s worried eyes as he stood.

‘Do not apologise. You did not act in a way that made me uncomfortable.’

‘Still, I went too far,’ Jim countered, as they set off together. ‘Can we- can we talk after dinner? I know we spent all afternoon with each other, but we never really talked about what we were meant to, I think.’

‘Of course we may,’ Spock replied quietly. Jim’s ensuing smile was dazzling, sending Spock slightly off-balance as they entered the dining hall, only to find everyone else already there. The chromometer read 1814. Dinner was relatively uneventful, bar his mother’s knowing glances, McCoy’s blatant disapproval, and Nyota’s miserable expression. After dinner, he vowed to spend time with her the next day, but once everyone had finished, he led Jim up to the bedroom he had claimed as his own.

‘You gonna show me that lirpa thing?’ Jim asked, as they entered, his face hopeful.

‘If you wish.’

By the time Spock had retrieved it from the cabinet he had stored it in, Jim was exploring what few possessions he had, trailing his fingers across the silk pyjamas that were neatly folded upon his pillow.

‘Nice jammies. Are they- woah! Is that a lirpa?’

Spock had been watching Jim indulgently as he distracted himself, but now all of his attention was on the weapon, and he reached out towards it.

‘Be careful,’ Spock warned, but allowed him to touch the flat of the fan-shaped blade.

‘Can I hold it?’

He handed it over once he had made sure that the weight would not be too much, hoping that Jim would not treat it as a toy. Thankfully, after a few moments of quiet consideration, it was handed back, and he stored it back in the cabinet.

‘So…’ Jim began, slumping onto the perfectly made bed, and causing the fabric to ruche. Spock found that he did not mind the disturbance. ‘We should talk about this connection thing. Your mom said you felt it too, right?’

Spock sat beside him rather more gracefully, comforted by the heat radiating from Jim’s body.

‘I do.’

Jim shifted closer, until one of his knees was brushing Spock’s thigh.

‘Do you know what it is?’

Spock paused, taking in Jim’s expectant expression with growing hope. He had been debating whether or not to relay to Jim what his mother had said, and while he was still inclined to be cautious, he did not wish to twist the truth.

‘I believe that it is indicative of a certain compatibility,’ he murmured, watching intently to gauge Jim’s reaction. ‘My mother… my mother told me that she felt similarly when she met my father.’

‘Oh! Oh my God.’ Jim’s eyes were wide, and he leant in, drawing them together even more. ‘What does that mean exactly? Is it a Vulcan thing?’

Spock nodded, nervously anticipating Jim’s response to his explanation.

‘Vulcans are often preliminarily bonded at age seven, but for those who wait, or for those who have broken a preliminary bond, there may be a sensation of completion when they interact with their intended. Admittedly, it is rare for it to manifest so strongly, which is why I spoke with my mother.’

Jim seemed shell-shocked, confusion having given way to something more ambiguous.

‘So we’re bonded?’

‘We are not,’ Spock replied hastily, fearing that Jim would panic and flee. ‘We are merely the best possible match. I… I feel for you, Jim. We have known each other for such a short period of time, and yet, your presence is a great comfort to me.’

Relief lightened the pressure on Spock’s chest when Jim’s expression lost its neutrality, and he beamed, so exquisitely beautiful in his joy that Spock couldn’t look away. One of Jim’s hands lifted, sliding smoothly along Spock’s cheek until it was cupped in his palm, while the other drew so close to the hand resting in Spock’s lap that he could almost feel Jim’s skin through the air separating them. 

‘Can I?’ Jim asked roughly, his gaze dropping to Spock’s lips, before flicking up again. Spock was uncertain – he was woefully inexperienced in romantic relationships, to the extent that even this was closer than he had been to any other – and yet, he wanted. Oh, he wanted. In the absence of a positive reply, Jim’s smile dimmed, his hands beginning to draw back.

‘I’m sorry, Spock, I-’

‘No!’ Spock choked, desperation pulling tight his vocal cords. Words failed him, but Jim seemed to understand, his eyes softening as he replaced his hands, only this time, his fingertips pressed against Spock’s. He leant forwards once more, skimming his nose against Spock’s. Spock released a shaky breath, staring at Jim’s closed eyes for a moment before shutting his.

‘You want this?’ Jim murmured, warm puffs of air curling into Spock’s open mouth as Jim nuzzled Spock’s nose with his own. ‘If you don’t, that’s okay. I won’t pressure you.’

There was no question about wanting.

‘Yes,’ Spock breathed, and Jim closed the distance between them with a gentle, chaste kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but Spock trembled nonetheless, his unoccupied hand moving to curl in the fabric of Jim’s shirt.

‘Good?’

‘Yes. Jim, I do not know what to do.’

He felt a kiss on his nose, then his cheek, and kept his eyes tightly closed.

‘Never kissed anyone before?’

He shook his head, hand curling tighter.

‘It’s alright,’ Jim whispered, softly stroking his fingers. ‘I’ve got you. Just tell me to stop if you don’t like something.’

Spock murmured his assent, and Jim’s lips descended on his, pressing soft butterfly kisses against his closed mouth. Under Jim’s tender ministrations, he slowly relaxed, enjoying the brush of their lips and the unhurried movements of their hands, noting wryly that despite his own unsophistication, Jim was talented in both human and Vulcan forms of kissing. He clumsily attempted to reciprocate, bolstered by Jim’s gentle, wordless encouragement, parting his lips and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Jim’s mouth opened beneath his, soft and warm, their fingers tangling together with increasing urgency, and to his horror, Spock felt his penis begin to swell. When Jim’s tongue slid wetly along his lower lip, he froze, panic overtaking burgeoning desire, and as soon as he did so, Jim pulled away.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he babbled, eyes searching his face. ‘I went too far again, didn’t I? Are you alright?’

‘I am fine,’ Spock replied, shifting uncomfortably in an attempt to conceal his semi-erection. ‘I am merely unused to such… attentions.’

Jim smiled, the worry fading slightly from his expression.

‘You want this, right?’ he asked, gesturing between them. Spock nodded, all too aware of the flush heating his cheeks. ‘Awesome. We can go real slow; I’m fine with that.’

‘I appreciate your patience.’

Jim’s smile softened, and his eyes along with it.

‘You’ve got me wrapped round your little finger already. I should go and see Bones, but I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?’

Spock nodded, having regained sufficient control to will his erection down, despite the temptation of Jim’s proximity. They stood, and Jim cupped his cheek again, stroking his thumb across Spock’s lower lip.

‘Goodnight kiss?’ he requested, and with astonishing boldness, Spock bent to kiss him chastely, pressing their fingertips together at the same time.

‘Goodnight, Jim,’ he murmured, as they broke apart. Jim dragged two fingers across his cheek before stepping back, pausing as he got to the door.

‘Night,’ he smiled, and then he was gone. Once the door had slid shut, Spock allowed himself the release of a shuddering breath, and slumped back onto his bed. He had enjoyed Jim’s company to a degree that he had not experienced in the presence of any other, and as he relived the soft pressure of Jim’s hands and lips against his, the erection that he had endeavoured to hide began to emerge once more. Ignoring it, Spock dimmed the lights and settled on the floor, thankful for the incense his mother had given to him after his arrival. Once the candles were lit, he closed his eyes, and dropped more easily into an acceptable base state than he had since the crisis had begun. The analysis of his emotions, however, took longer. Unfamiliar desire and amorous affection intruded throughout the process, Jim’s actions a catalyst, and when he emerged with adequate equilibrium, there remained a slight problem. Namely, his erection. Unsettled, he attempted to engage in vasoconstriction, but it proved unsuccessful after several attempts. He considered a cold-water shower, but did not wish to spend the evening shivering. To Spock, there was but one alternative. He was unaccustomed to arousal, rarely engaging in masturbation due to a lack of need, but the presence of such an exquisite potential bondmate was temptation even for him.

Once undressed, instead of re-clothing himself in his pyjamas, Spock slid naked beneath the thick duvet, shivering as his penis caught on the fabric. Reconsidering, he kicked the covers away, deciding that he did not want to dirty them, and drew his knees up so that his feet rested flat on the bed. His few previous explorations had been fumbling and he had considered them shameful, but as he thought of Jim, he could no longer contain his desire. He skimmed his fingers over his sensitive inner thighs again and again, shuddering as he imagined Jim’s hands replacing his own. Finally, the ache between his legs grew too strong to ignore, and he took himself in hand, gasping as he squeezed and felt pleasure emanate from both his fingers and his slick penis. He began to stroke himself slowly, thumbing over the hot, sticky precome dripping from the tip, gradually increasing his rhythm as he thought of Jim touching his penis, of Jim taking his penis into his mouth and suckling, eyes burning with desire. Consumed by his beautiful fantasy, Spock tightened his grip and worked himself harder, feeling his testicles tighten as pleasure began to wind in his stomach. Desperation took him, heart pounding and hand flying, until his vision of Jim threaded their fingers together, and he came with a soft moan of his name, riding the gentle waves of ecstasy as come spurted over his hand and stomach.

With unprecedented relief, Spock sighed, gently milking the remaining semen from his penis, before rising to perform the necessary ablutions. Shame returned, both old and new, for his weakness, and for the fact that he had utilised the image of his potential bondmate to satisfy himself. With a heavier heart, Spock dressed and got into bed, ruminating on the day’s discoveries. He found Jim altogether fascinating – intelligent, charming, and incredibly aesthetically pleasing – and with their compatibility so absolute, he did not wish to delay discussions of bonding for too long. Danger surrounded them all, and with the likelihood of moving on, time was certainly of the essence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, because I really enjoyed writing it! Please comment and tell me what your thoughts are, and I'll have the next one up in two weeks :) In the meantime, feel free to visit my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	10. And My Whole World Shook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're getting this chapter early because I finished it early - it's a long one, sorry! Warnings for EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT and a brief suggestion of child sexual abuse. There's also a load of sap for you all to put up with :)

Stardate 2261.72. 0730 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

It is an early start for me today. Jim requested a change in time slot so that his interview wouldn’t clash with an appointment he has later. He was apologetic, but unwavering; it was clear that today’s meeting would either happen when he suggested, or not at all. The communication he sent was uncharacteristically terse, and when he sits heavily in the chair, dark smudges beneath his eyes, I am sure that there must be some confrontation with the powers-that-be. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I am not privy to the machinations of my superiors, so I have no idea what exactly is troubling Jim. I’m not going to ask.

From what I’ve gathered, when you arrived in Des Moines, you formed a pretty strong relationship with Spock and Amanda very quickly. Particularly Spock.

JK: Yeah _[He cracks a smile.]_ Yeah, I did. When I first got there, I was so glad to see Nyota alive, but meeting Spock was just… _[he shakes his head]_ I can’t explain it.

That seems to be the impression I got from Spock as well. I think I expected that you would all move on straight away, but that didn’t happen, did it?

JK: No. From almost the very beginning, I’d have followed Spock anywhere, so long as Bones could come too. But we needed time to think things through.

Can you elaborate on that?

JK: _[nods, blowing out his cheeks]_ First of all, Spock didn’t want to endanger his mother. She’s an amazing lady, she really is, and later on, we found out what a brilliant fighter she was. But she hadn’t been trained in combat, and – well – she’s his mom. Who doesn’t want to protect their mom?

That’s understandable.

JK: Yeah, but there was also the fact that we couldn’t necessarily get out at all. Remember how close a shave it was when we arrived in Des Moines? We could easily have died. Easily. We couldn’t just dash out the door and hope for the best, especially not when there were people we cared about with us. We had to have a vague plan to get out of the city. They say there’s strength in numbers, and that’s true, but we didn’t want to lose anyone on the way. Plus… it had to be everyone’s decision.

What do you mean?

JK: _[runs a hand through his hair]_ Bones wasn’t necessarily raving about the idea. Mind you, he wasn’t raving about much at the time. He’d been fine with it when we were out in the open, but once we’d found a comfortable place to settle, he wasn’t quite so keen.

He didn’t want to go.

JK: He said he had to come with me. You know what he’s like – he thinks I can’t look after myself. I wouldn’t be without him, and if he said he was staying put, I would have as well.

Even if Spock was going?

JK: _[hesitates]_ Yes. I think it would have killed me, but yes. I made a promise to myself on the day I killed Joanna, and I wasn’t about to break it. Bones is my best friend. My very best friend, and I wouldn’t leave him. He just needed a bit of persuasion, that’s all.

So he eventually agreed. How did you form a plan?

JK: Endless discussions. We all had suggestions, but Spock was the one who was best at figuring out whether they would work or not. We were a good team, but Spock nominated me as team leader, and the others agreed.

Why?

JK: He said I made the best tactical decisions, which made sense, considering my Academy track. All of us contributed to the decision made in the end though.

And what was that decision?

JK: _[grinning openly]_ We needed a distraction.

* * *

Jim was tired of debating. He’d never been one for long, protracted discussions, preferring to work on instinct, and though he knew it was necessary, he was restless. Over the past few weeks, they had all settled into an easy rhythm, and perhaps the hell that was outside might have been forgotten had it not been for the lack of working holoscreens, communicators and computers. Despite the respite this afforded them, however, Jim was concerned that they were becoming too comfortable. On Tarsus IV, a misguided sense of security had been the death of many, and he didn’t want that to happen to his friends. To Spock. Their relationship was definitely something more, something deeper than he had ever experienced before. In deference to Spock’s evident lack of experience – which a covetous part of Jim delighted in – they had taken things excruciatingly slow, and in the weeks since their first kiss, they had done little more than repeat the process. Before Spock, Jim would have moved on pretty quickly if a potential partner had been so reticent, but Spock was different. Spock was special. And God help him, Jim almost certainly loved him. A few days before, he had talked to Bones about the ache in his chest, the way his stomach flipped pleasantly whenever he saw Spock, the way he didn’t want to let go when they separated at night. He had been told in no uncertain terms that he was in love – and berated for it.

‘Dammit Jim!’ Bones had snapped, smacking him with a pillow. ‘You don’t start this shit in an apocalypse!’

Jim was way too far gone for his complaints to have an effect, dazed and frightened and euphoric all at once, and he had kissed Spock with extra passion that evening, loving the way the tips of his ears went green. Since then, Bones seemed to have mellowed a little on the relationship front, even going so far as to start teasing. Jim reckoned it was because he’d realised that it wasn’t going to end any time soon.

He’d been drifting in and out of Spock and Bones’ argument, but now, as he caught Amanda’s amused eyes, a thought occurred to him.

‘Hey!’ he interrupted, hastily attempting to prevent Bones’ inevitable eruption. ‘Remember how we distracted those Ferals at the Academy by throwing some rocks?’

Bones nodded distractedly, still side-eyeing Spock.

‘Then we need something like that, but bigger. They’re docile now, but they won’t be if they see us, and I’d rather their attention was directed somewhere else.’

‘A distraction,’ Nyota said softly.

‘Exactly. There’s a small lab in here, right? I was thinking Molotovs, so long as there’s kerosene or something.’

‘A combination of carbon disulphide, white phosphorus and sulphur would remove the need for an incendiary device,’ Spock added, leaning forwards in his chair. ‘The chemicals would ignite upon contact with the air.’

‘What about when we’re out?’ Bones asked. ‘Where are we going then?’

‘Back to the car, if we can get there. There should still be petrol cans in the back, if nobody’s taken them, and there’s enough space for all of us, plus two.’

‘Sounds like a good plan to me,’ Amanda said brightly. ‘Though I can’t say I’m crazy about leaving tomorrow morning. When do you think would be best?’

Jim raised his hands, looking to Spock.

‘A week? Yeah, let’s go for a week. We’ve got lots to do before then, anyway.’ Jim exhaled strongly, getting to his feet. ‘Spock, do you think you could start on those Molotovs? If there aren’t the right ingredients, we’ll improvise. Amanda and Nyota, could you guys find a map in the library, and try to work out the safest route out east? We left the car near a Rising Sun church – something like that, anyway. Bones and I will try and collect together weapons and ammo. I know it’s getting late, but we can pick up where we left off tomorrow. Everyone good?’

There was a chorus of ‘yes’, and as they all got up to leave, Jim discreetly brushed his fingers against Spock’s.

‘I’ll meet you later, yeah?’ he murmured, knowing that Spock’s hearing would be sensitive enough for him to catch it. A nod and a second caress later, Spock left the room after the ladies, and Jim watched him go miserably. How pathetic.

‘I’m surprised you didn’t want to go with your love bug,’ Bones smirked. Jim punched him on the arm as they made for the doors.

‘What am I gonna do in the labs? Just hover there behind him? Of course, that’s what I _want_ to do, but I’ll see him later anyway.’

They lapsed into brief silence as they made their way towards the foyer. Jim wanted to begin with a ground floor sweep, and with the size of the complex, he was glad that they had a week. As they went from room to room, Jim’s concentration drifted, going through the motions without really engaging.

‘So what’s going on with you and Pointy?’

Jim started, closing the drawer he had been perusing.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You seem pretty darn close for two people who met less than a month ago,’ Bones remarked, working his way through a filing cabinet. ‘I mean, you’re in love already? Damn Jimmy, I’ve never known you fall for someone.’

Jim shrugged, moving on to a series of cupboards.

‘Never know you fall for someone either,’ he countered.

‘Yeah, but I’m a bitter old divorcé.’

‘You’re _32._ ’

‘Ah, this isn’t about me,’ Bones drawled, letting the final drawer in the cabinet fall shut with a dull crash. ‘This is about you.’

When Jim had ascertained that there was nothing of value in the cupboards, he turned to Bones, folding his arms.

‘I can’t say I understand it either,’ he replied, gesturing vaguely with one hand. ‘It’s different. _He’s_ different. I want him forever, and it’s scaring the shit out of me, but it’s true. Luckily, he seems to feel the same way. Do you know anything about Vulcan bonds?’

‘Can’t say that I do.’

‘They’re like- like telepathic connections between family and partners. There’s lots of other types too, but they’re the most important, and Spock says that we’re really compatible in that way.’

Bones’ eyebrows raised.

‘But you’re human.’

‘Yeah, so what?’ Jim retorted, sitting down on a tabletop. ‘So’s his mom, and she told Spock that our situation sounds similar to hers and Spock’s dad’s. And I feel it too, Bones. This connection. It’s so strong.’

‘Yeah, I can see that, Jimmy. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt, that’s all. I mean, any one of us could go at any moment, once we’re out there, and what would that do to you if you guys were committed?’

Jim shook his head, picking at a small hole in his jeans.

‘It doesn’t matter whether we’re married with kids, or we never touch again; I would still feel the same. We might as well be as happy as we can be, even if it’s not in the best of circumstances.’

Bones didn’t reply for a while, eyes habituated to identifying even the slightest ailment focusing keenly on Jim. Eventually, he sighed, his gaze dropping.

‘Whatever makes you happy, Jim. Just make sure it’s want you want.’

‘It’s definitely what I want, Bonesy,’ Jim insisted, hopping down off the table. His concentration had dwindled, and he knew they’d do a better job in the morning. Now, he wanted a bit of fresh air. ‘Shall we stop for tonight?’

‘Been waitin’ for you to say that all day.’

Jim smiled; Bones’ accent definitely got thicker when he was tired. He herded him out into the corridor, stopping at the foot of the staircase.

‘I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah?’ he said, clapping him on the shoulder.

‘Why, where’re you goin’?’

‘Just out to the quadrangle,’ he replied, pushing his exhausted-looking best friend lightly towards the stairs. ‘I want to see the sky.’

Bones shook his head in something like despair.

‘The hell is it with you and space, kid? Don’t take too long out there, or you’ll catch a cold, and I ain’t got time for that right now.’

Jim gave him a shit-eating grin, watching as he climbed the stairs and threw a grumpy ‘Night!’ over his shoulder.

‘Night!’ he chirped back, making his way towards the quadrangle, and the stars. The sky was clearer than it had been, the almost complete lack of light pollution showing more of space than Jim had ever seen on Terra. God, he wanted to be up there exploring. He had denied the compulsion for so long, ignoring how much he yearned for the stars in favour of avoiding the weight of his father’s legacy, and now that he had finally given in, he was unable to do so. Smiling wistfully, he wandered through the empty quadrangle, watching the footlights upon the path burst into life as he moved. He had, however, forgotten something rather important. As he neared the centre of the quadrangle, the lights illuminated the burial place that Spock had warned him about. Jim stared at the precisely-angled cross above Andrew’s grave, recalling others with much rougher markers, with lopsided twigs and piles of pebbles as the only tributes to the souls within. As he stared, reality warped around him. His surroundings grew cooler, the sickly smell of the fungus tickling the back of his throat, and another child lay ready to be buried, tummy concave, with xylophone ribs and sunken cheeks. Increasingly, it hurt to breathe, his lungs feeling like a weight was driving inwards, crushing them, and when a hand fell lightly on his shoulder, he blurted, ‘Kevin?’

No. Kevin was smaller than him, too small to reach without a big stretch, and when he turned, the worried eyes that met his own were brown, not green. Jim jerked as he recalibrated, adjusting back to the relative safety of the conference centre, and his face heated as he said, ‘Spock?’

Angled eyebrows drew together over those hypnotic eyes, such affection held within that they stole Jim’s breath away.

‘Jim, who is Kevin?’ Spock asked softly.

Jim’s lip trembled, and he bit down to prevent its weak movement. A return to reality brought with it recollection of the hell that lay outside the walls of the complex, and memories of a young man who was more child than brother. He hadn’t told Spock about Tarsus. It had taken two years and a lot of Jack to tell Bones, who had cried with him through the night on the floor of their Academy bathroom. He wanted Spock to know, but the explanation he wished to give wouldn’t come, his vocal cords uncooperative. As he struggled, breath catching, Spock raised a hand to his cheek and tenderly stroked his thumb across the raised scar there, no impatience in his expression.

‘There is another option,’ Spock murmured, removing his thumb and dragging two fingers down towards his mouth. ‘Will you come with me, ashayam?’

Jim kissed the pads of his fingers as they reached his lips, which quirked upwards when Spock shivered.

‘Of course. What does ‘ashayam’ mean?’

‘It means ‘beloved’,’ Spock explained, leading them from the quadrangle. Jim flushed, silently revelling in the endearment for a moment, and slipped his hand around the bare skin of Spock’s lower arm.

‘’Beloved’, huh?’ he asked breathily. Nobody had ever thought him worthy of a name so beautiful. ‘Ashayam? Is that how you say it?’

‘Correct,’ Spock replied, sliding his arm through the cradle of Jim’s hand until their fingers were loosely clasped together.

‘I like that.’

‘I am glad, _ashayam.’_

They remained in companionable silence until they reached their destination – Spock’s room. After asking him to remove his shoes, Spock guided him to sit on the bed, then dragged a high-backed chair from his desk to sit across from him. Although the room – and Spock – were familiar to him, Jim couldn’t help but feel nervous about this ‘other option’. Perhaps sensing his worry, Spock took Jim’s hands in his, thumbs stroking over the backs of them.

‘Jim, have you ever heard of a mind meld?’

Jim shook his head.

‘It is a Vulcan technique used to share thoughts and memories,’ Spock explained, the warm glide of his thumbs surprisingly soothing. ‘A telepathic link, if you will.’

‘How- how does it work?’ Jim asked, intrigued.

Spock reached up with one hand and gently placed his fingertips on Jim’s face.

‘I would touch you thus, and make our minds one. It is painless, and I am told that for those with compatible minds, a meld can be an enjoyable experience. You will control what I see, and if for any reason I overstepped my bounds, a word from you would lead me to retreat. In this way, we could experience your unpleasant memories together, in mental versions of our physical bodies. It is your choice, Jim.’

Jim wanted it. He wanted everything with Spock, but Spock didn’t know what he’d done to Joanna, what he’d had to do on Tarsus. Plus, why would Spock want to waste such an amazing experience on him, flawed as he was?

‘Isn’t- isn’t that kind of important?’ he stuttered, clutching at Spock’s hand like an anchor. ‘Like, something you only do with special people.’

At his expression of insecurity, Spock’s neutral expression faltered, showing more tenderness than Jim had ever hoped to see. Jim’s breath caught, heart fluttering as Spock leant forwards and took his face between his palms, kissing him deeply. When they broke apart, he remained close, pressing their foreheads together as he breathed against Jim’s lips.

‘ _You_ are special,’ he whispered, the warmth of his skin intoxicating. ‘I love you, my Jim. I do not wish for a casual encounter, a fleeting relationship. I wish for a bond – to wed as Vulcans do. I cannot envision my future without you.’

Spock’s words inspired such heat in Jim that he felt he might be glowing with it. Nobody had ever wanted anything more than a quick fuck from him, but this - _this_ was terrifying and wonderful all at once, leaving him giddy. It was crazy, and Bones would probably kill him, but he wanted Spock in any and all capacities, even if he didn’t know exactly what a bond would entail. Through the haze of delight, however, his earlier fears began insidiously to reassert themselves.

‘I love you too,’ he whispered, shuddering in delight as the words left his lips for the first time. Spock closed his eyes, and Jim’s heart swelled at the naked vulnerability on his face. ‘God, I love you so much. But… I’ve done things, Spock. You might not want me after you know about them. Meld with me. I want you to know everything, so you can back out now rather than later. You should know what a fuck-up you’re-’

Spock cut him off with another kiss, barely more than a brush, but it was enough to soothe his fraying nerves.

‘You are not a ‘fuck-up’, taluhk. There is nothing that you could show or tell me to dissuade me from wanting you.’

Jim leant into the hand against his cheek, smiling even if he was still uncertain. He loved hearing Spock swear.

‘Taluhk?’

‘Mmm,’ Spock purred, leaving the chair to come and sit cross-legged on the bed, Jim coming to sit across from him. ‘Precious.’

‘God, that’s so sappy,’ Jim blushed, grinning nonetheless.

‘Perhaps. I will not restrain myself around you, Jim.’

‘I’m glad,’ Jim whispered, shifting forward so that their knees came into contact. ‘Can we meld now? I want to show you everything.’

‘Very well. If you wish to stop, you need only tell me so.’ Spock laid his fingers on Jim’s face in the same configuration as before, gaze reassuring. ‘My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.’

It was, by far, the strangest, and most amazing experience of Jim’s life. The initial falling together was indescribably wonderful, feeling more like home than anything Jim had ever known, as Spock’s mind welcomed him, embraced him seamlessly. The world shifted, and when he opened his eyes within the meld, Spock was beside him in what looked to be a beautiful meadow, the sky above them painted gold. He looked to Spock and found him open-mouthed, something like awe in his eyes.

‘What is it?’ Jim asked, a little self-conscious.

‘I will- I will tell you when we have exited the meld. Do you see the tempest, t-… ashal-veh?’

‘Ashal-veh?’ Jim questioned absently, following Spock’s finger to the distant, silent storm raging before them. ‘Oh. Yes, I do.’

‘That is our destination.’ Spock took his hand and began to lead him there, before clarifying. ‘Ashal-veh means darling one.’

‘So sappy,’ Jim mumbled, cheeks glowing, but as they reached the barrier behind which it stormed, a familiar fear took hold.

‘Do not be afraid, Jim,’ Spock soothed. ‘I will be with you. Simply bring forth that which you wish to show me.’

He gently tugged Jim forwards, and they melted through the barrier as if it didn’t exist, straight into Jim’s most terrible memories.

_He was four years old, and it was his birthday, and mommy wouldn’t look him in the eye. She smelled weird, like Mister Robertson always did, and Jimmy didn’t like it. He wanted a present, and some cake. Sammy got a present and some cake on his birthday, he got a hoverboard and chocolate cake, and Jimmy wasn’t allowed any because it wasn’t his. Only he didn’t see a present or a cake, and mommy hadn’t mentioned his birthday all day. She never did._

* * *

 

_He was nine, and his mom was coming home for the first time in two years. Grandma had died in her chair, and there was nobody else to look after them. Jimmy had loved Grandma so much. He cried a lot, even if Sammy said crying’s for girls. He waited, and waited, and finally the front door opened, and he rushed up to find his mom, but there was a man there instead._

_‘Afternoon, brat,’ he smirked, smacking him round the head too hard for it to have been unintentional. ‘I’m your new daddy. Now get me a beer.’_

* * *

 

_He was thirteen, and he hated Frank. That morning, Sam had run away, and Jim had driven George Kirk’s vintage Chevrolet over the edge of a cliff, not sure whether he was going to jump out until his body made the decision for him. Though he had spat and sworn, the cop-bot had dragged him back home, and fear had clawed at his throat ‘til he sobbed with it, begging to be taken somewhere, **anywhere** , else. The minute that door had closed, he was at Frank’s mercy, dodging fists and feet in vain, until he’d been thrown bodily through the lounge window. As he lay there in a pool of his own blood, the bones in his arm as splintered as the glass, Frank loomed over him, face purple._

_‘You’re goin’ to Tarsus IV, boy.’_

_He **hated** Frank._

* * *

 

_He was fourteen, and he was dying. His body was wrecked, wasted, and the others weren’t doing too well either. She – Xanthe – was cradled in his arms, three years of age. Cold. He wasn’t sure when she’d stopped breathing, only that the shallow rise and fall of her ribcage had ended at some point. There was no baby fat left on her, only the hardness of bone and the skin sunken into its hollows. This was the third child in three days. There was nothing left in the barren grain stores, nor the fungus-ridden crop fields, but he had twenty-three starving children to feed. Something had to give._

* * *

 

_He was fifteen, and he hated himself. Nine of them left, just nine, and little Kevin’s breath had begun to rattle in his chest like all the others before him. The guards had caught him that morning, and given him a choice. His body for the lives of his kids. There was no choice for Jim. He’d sold himself for food and freedom, let them tear him apart for the sake of fuller bellies, and he could still feel their hands all over him. Could feel the stabbing pains in his backside, the mess of blood and other things he didn’t want to think about. He had food. That was what mattered. When he limped back through the entrance of the cave they had been hiding in, there were gasps of delight as he tore off a small piece of bread to hand to each child._

_‘Slowly, or you’ll get sick,’ he warned, the horror that roiled his stomach warring with the satisfaction of feeding the children._

_‘Where did you get the food from?’ Thomas asked, obviously struggling not to shove the whole thing in his mouth at once. Jim’s shaky legs brought him to the floor, and he took Freya into his arms, the youngest. He was the only father she had ever known, and she loved him accordingly, curled silently against him as he fed her before himself. He forced a brittle smile._

_‘Doesn’t matter, Tommy. Eat your bread. Slowly.’_

* * *

 

_He was twenty-five, and he’d murdered his best friend’s daughter. Two days ago, he’d shot her down and covered her up, and now Bones wanted to bury her. He was almost blind with tears – they both were – but Bones managed to hoist the colourful bundle up in his arms. Jim had tirelessly dug her grave in the gardens yesterday, so it was ready for her. Bones was dead-eyed. Once he had lowered Joanna into the dirt, covered by the blanket, he collapsed at her open grave, sobbing, and Jim knew he didn’t deserve it, but his eyes burned so badly, and he cried too – for himself, for Joanna, and for the man she’d left behind who loved her so fiercely._

There was a sudden jerk – whether mental or physical, Jim didn’t know – and they were catapulted from his mind like he’d been thrown through that window again, and God, Spock was _crying._ Not much, not the tidal wave Jim could feel rising within, but enough, eyes wide and wet and streaming. He looked heartbroken, and Jim’s stomach dropped. He had probably realised that Jim was more fucked up than he expected, was probably upset that he’d wasted time on him, would probably go straight to Uhura –

He knew there was transparent anguish in his expression as he staggered to his feet, dizziness distorting the world around him.

‘I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I’ll go.’

He spun around and stumbled towards the door, ignoring Spock’s hoarse cry of his name, but then he was forcefully turned and crushed against a warm chest.

 _‘Jim,’_ Spock murmured, the cadence of the word almost reverent, and then Jim was crying himself, falling limp against Spock and curling his fingers into his sweater.

‘T’hy’la,’ Spock cooed. ‘Oh, t’hy’la.’

Jim couldn’t breathe for the tears, his knees weak and wobbly. As his legs began to give, Spock guided them backwards towards the bed, effortlessly lifting Jim and cradling him against his chest as he sat down. Jim pressed his face into the curve of his neck and sobbed, the unstoppable tears wetting the fabric and skin beneath. He was embarrassed and relieved and grateful all at once.

‘I am sorry, my Jim. I am so sorry.’

Spock’s hand carded through his hair and smoothed it back down in soothing, repetitive movements as he cried, crooning softly in what Jim assumed was Vulcan. In time, and with the singular comfort of being held in Spock’s arms, the tears began to abate, leaving Jim feeling wrung out and sleepy. Attempting to be discreet, he swiped the back of his hand over his streaming nose, only to find himself tipping sideways as Spock reached for a tissue, wiping the mucus from his hand before pressing the tissue into it.

‘Thanks,’ he blushed, dabbing at his nose. Spock’s only reply was to tighten his hold and press his cheek against the top of Jim’s head, one hand rubbing slowly up and down his back. ‘You’re good at hugs.’

Spock hummed in reply, and Jim pulled back slightly to look at him, horrified to see tear trails and green-tinged eyes.

‘M’sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,’ he babbled, reaching up to brush his thumbs under Spock’s eyes. Spock shook his head, a corner of his lips quirking tremulously as he placed one of his hands over Jim’s.

‘You have done nothing wrong, Jim. Many terrible things have happened to you, and I cannot help but feel great sadness for the pain you have experienced.’

Jim turned his hand over and took Spock’s into his, playing with his fingers.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, dropping his eyes to where he was drawing patterns against Spock’s skin so he couldn’t see his expression. ‘You don’t have to say it back again, I know it must be difficult for you-’

‘I love you too,’ Spock interrupted, manoeuvring Jim’s hand into a Vulcan kiss. ‘And I will always say it back, t’hy’la.’

‘What’s tah-hi-la?’

‘T’hy’la,’ Spock corrected softly, eyes brimming with emotion. ‘It is everything – friend, brother, lover. It is you, Jim. The equivalent word in standard would perhaps be soulmate. T’hy’la bonds are extremely rare and inordinately precious, originating from the time before Surak, where warrior pairs forged the deepest of connections. The deepest love. I already knew that I wished to be with you for the rest of my natural life, but to find that you are t’hy’la also… You are a gift that I neither expected, nor deserve.’

‘Of course you deserve me,’ Jim protested, a little stunned by all he had heard. ‘You deserve better, sweetheart, but I’m selfish, and I want you. Will you bond us?’

Jim didn’t understand the desperation that burned within, the _need_ to tie himself to this man, but he certainly wanted to give in to it. Spock looked like he might pass out – in a good way – trembling fingers tracing the side of Jim’s face.

‘Nothing would please me more, ashayam, but there are certain considerations that you must first be made aware of. T’hy’la bonds are extremely difficult to break, and I am not sure that I would survive such a horrific experience intact. To bond in this manner would allow us to hear much of each other’s surface thoughts, and to communicate within our minds. I understand if that unnerves you, but-’

‘Are you kidding me? Spock, that’s _awesome!’_ Jim interrupted, beaming. ‘We can have our own secret conversations and nobody will ever know!’

‘I am gratified that you are excited, but there is a further consideration-’ Spock flushed, and cut himself off. During the long pause that followed, Jim stroked the heated spot on one cool cheek, revelling in his apparent ability to embarrass his Vulcan. ‘Have you ever heard of a phenomenon known as pon farr?’

‘No. What is it?’

There was a much longer pause now, and Jim laughed at Spock’s deep green blush.

‘C’mon, ta-hi-la, spit it out.’

‘T’hy’la, Jim,’ Spock corrected automatically, then continued, ‘Pon farr is a time of mating. It occurs approximately once every seven years in a Vulcan’s life, and is a most unpleasant biological drive.’

‘Mating, unpleasant?’

‘Pon farr does not involve lovemaking,’ Spock replied, ‘or at least, not the kind I wish to experience with you more regularly. It is feral and primal and can last for days. It is something that I do not want to force upon you, but if we are bonded at that time, I will have no choice.’

Spock hung his head in what seemed like shame, and Jim carded a hand through his hair, nuzzling against his jawline.

‘I love you,’ he murmured, snatching away half of the whispered reply with a chaste kiss. ‘And I want everything that having you entails, pon farr included.’

There was a momentary pause, in which Spock simply _stared,_ eyes filled with wonder, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then, Spock splayed one hand against Jim’s back and tipped him down towards the bed, kissing him deeply. When Jim finally came up for air, lungs burning, Spock was kneeling over him, his pupils blown so wide that Jim could barely see the ring of brown surrounding them.

‘If you still wish to bond, I can bind us together whilst we engage in intercourse,’ he rasped.

‘Do you have to make it sound so clinical?’ Jim teased, as if the word ‘intercourse’ coming out of Spock’s mouth hadn’t made him half-hard already. ‘Of course I want to bond with you, but didn’t you want to take it slow? If you’re not okay with sex yet, I’m happy to wait.’

Spock’s lips curved into a tiny smile, before descending on Jim’s again, kissing him so gently that Jim’s heart fluttered.

‘I do not want to wait any longer,’ Spock whispered, as he broke away, ‘I-I wish to make love to you, but I have never before… I am unsure of what actions to take.’

Maybe it shouldn’t have turned Jim on to be Spock’s first, but it did, ridiculously so. His cock strained painfully against the zipper of his jeans as he pulled Spock back down onto him, sliding his tongue against the seam of soft lips until they opened to let him in. He explored the roof of Spock’s mouth, the back of his teeth, his sensitive frenulum, stroking his tongue sensuously against Spock’s own until Spock timidly began to reciprocate, suckling on it. When the lack of oxygen began to make him feel light-headed, Jim tore his mouth away, panting.

‘Clothes off,’ he whispered, going for the buttons of Spock’s shirt just as Spock’s trembling hands went for the hem of his. Clumsily, they managed to bare each other to the waist, and Jim’s fingers tangled immediately in the silk-soft chest hair he found. ‘Fuck, look at this. You’re gorgeous, t’hy’la.’

‘You are a vision,’ Spock said hoarsely, hands stroking down Jim’s biceps, then down his chest, the tentative brush of soft fingertips over his nipples making his dick throb.

‘Mmm, thanks, sweetheart,’ Jim sighed, pulling him forward to gently suckle on the tip of his ear. Spock gasped, and Jim threaded a hand through his hair, pulling him into another kiss. ‘Are you willing to take the lead if I guide you through it?’

Spock leaned forwards as the kiss broke, chasing his lips.

‘You do not wish to be dominant?’

‘Not always,’ Jim said huskily, guiding Spock’s mouth to his neck, and humming in pleasure as he latched on. ‘How far do you want to go?’

‘To bond, it will be enough to bring one another to orgasm,’ Spock murmured, in between sloppy kisses that made Jim’s back arch. ‘Tonight, may we just… It is not that I do not want to penetrate you, only that-’

‘Shhh, love, it’s alright. We can try that another day.’

Jim lay back under Spock’s oral assault, his breath stuttering out of him as a questing hand reached for one of his nipples, and he tugged lightly at Spock’s hair in encouragement as his mouth began to descend. He whimpered as Spock pinched the left one, pulling a little harder as Spock’s mouth hovered over his chest.

‘I want your mouth,’ he begged, groaning with frustration as Spock simply took his right nipple into his mouth and remained completely still, eyes glinting with amusement. ‘Spock, please, s-suck- _ah!’_

Spock began to suckle at it, laving his tongue over the hard nub again and again as Jim writhed beneath him. When he pulled away to blow cool air over it, switching to its twin, Jim cried out in breathless delight, lunging for his belt.

‘Pants off,’ he panted, as Spock released his swollen left nipple from equally swollen lips. They kissed deeply as Spock all but ripped his jeans off, wriggling out of his own pants before hooking the fingers of one hand in the elastic of Jim’s boxers.

‘What do you want, ashal-veh?’

Jim gasped as Spock moulded his hand over the tent in Jim’s boxers, stroking the pads of the fingers they kissed with over the wet spot where precome had leaked through.

‘F-fuck! I want both of us naked, now!’

Spock pressed a gentle kiss on the growing wet patch before divesting Jim of his underwear, clumsily tearing off his own. Jim’s eyes immediately zeroed in on his prize. Spock’s dick was _perfect._ It was long and thick and flushed a deep green, darker at the tapered head, beneath which was a second ridge. Aside from all that though, Jim was most intrigued – and aroused – by the fact that it was absolutely dripping with what looked like precome, covering the entire length with a wet sheen and dribbling from the head onto the duvet beneath them. Spock was blushing darkly when Jim finally tore his eyes away, shifting awkwardly.

‘Perhaps I am not what you were expecting.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Jim rasped. ‘Do you have any idea how much you’re turning me on? So wet for me…’

Spock’s hips jerked, apparently involuntarily, and Jim watched open-mouthed as another drop welled at the head of his cock, trickling down the side. He reached forward and curled his hand around it, eliciting a gasp from them both as Spock thrust slowly through his hand, the slick sound of it stupidly arousing. Without warning, Jim pulled his hand away and sucked the precome off his fingers, enjoying the predatory glint in Spock’s eyes as he moaned around them, pleasantly surprised by the sweeter taste. When he released them with a lewd pop, Spock growled, and he cried out as the head of his penis was suddenly engulfed in a cool mouth. Inexperienced though he may have been, Spock certainly knew enough to drive Jim crazy, his balls tightening as Spock sucked harder, one of his thumbs softly caressing the shaft beneath his mouth.

‘Spock, please, please, _please,’_ Jim babbled, pinned down by one inhumanly strong hand on his hip. ‘I’ll come!’

Spock released him and rose up for a kiss, pulling Jim’s lower lip into his mouth and suckling on it, releasing it only to slide his tongue into Jim’s mouth. Jim moaned, and as Spock languidly stroked his tongue with his own, Jim’s cock twitched at the soft rasp of it, cool and unfamiliar. He gentled the kiss, slowed it, until with a final brush of lips, they parted.

‘I just want to see your face,’ Jim said throatily, reaching for Spock’s erection once more. Spock hissed as he curled his fingers loosely around the shaft, and Jim urged him forwards with a hand on his hip until his sensitive glans touched Spock’s, that hot, slick contact enough to make precome well in his slit. Jim’s quiet moan was almost enough to drown out Spock’s shuddering gasp, but not quite. He angled his hips until their erections were aligned, Spock’s slightly longer, his slightly thicker, and thrust slowly upwards, grunting at the delicious catch of Spock’s ridges on his own.

‘Fuuuuck, t’hy’la, that’s so good. Gimme your hand a sec.’

Spock did so, his eyes black with desire, tracking Jim’s movements in an almost predatory manner. When Jim licked a stripe up his palm, he moaned unrestrainedly, pretty lips falling open as he panted.

‘Tell me how it feels when I do that,’ Jim murmured, doing it more slowly as Spock began to speak.

‘It is an - _ah!_ \- incredible sensation, m-my hands are so sensitive…’

‘I know, sweetheart, I know,’ Jim purred, letting go of him. ‘How about you put your hand around both of us? I think that’ll feel even better.’

Spock’s hand was shaking as he reached for their aligned erections, and he let out a soft cry that echoed Jim’s as he took hold of them together, the cool pressure of Spock’s hand and the heat against his cock almost orgasmic in itself.

‘Oh God!’ Jim choked, as Spock began to move against him, his t’hy’la letting out broken little whines, muscles trembling. His hands roamed over the taut muscles of Spock’s back, over the green tips of his ears, into his silky hair, and as the hot precome from Spock’s dick slicked their cocks deliciously, pleasure began to curl in his stomach. ‘Tighter, love. Yeah, _oh yeah._ Love you.’

‘And I you,’ Spock gasped, the fingers of his free hand brushing Jim’s temple. _‘James.’_

‘Yeah, baby, bond us,’ Jim said breathlessly, pulling Spock down into a kiss just as those fingers anchored on his meld points, and his head exploded in light. It was ecstasy. It was _never parted,_ and _always touching,_ and _home;_ it was love _now,_ and _forever,_ and _always shall be, t’hy’la._ It was love, love, _love…_

When Jim came back to his physical body, it was to the tightening of his stomach and amazing friction against his cock, and Spock whimpering as he moved ever faster, a green flush in his cheeks and his chest. He was absolutely beautiful.

‘You wanna come, darling?’ he whispered, feeling his balls begin to draw up. Spock’s eyes, distant and hazy, fixed on his. ‘Come for me, Spock.’

_Come, t’hy’la._

He wasn’t sure if he had done it right, but Spock seemed to hear him, a ragged wail leaving his lips as he spurted over his hand and Jim’s stomach, warm semen pulsing onto Jim’s purpling cock.

‘James, _oh_ , James,’ Spock moaned, letting go of his own penis once he had milked himself dry, quickly descending to take Jim’s cock into his mouth. Jim cried out as his lips passed over the head and kept going, his balls tightening as Spock took him slowly in to the hilt, gorgeous eyes wide as he looked up.

 _Now, James,_ he ordered silently, sucking hard. With Spock’s demand echoing through his mind, Jim drove upwards into cool wetness and cried out, coming with a harsh sob of his name. Spock suckled him through the aftershocks, and when he was too sensitive for more, gently cleaned him off with his tongue, paying close attention to the head of his cock until he squirmed from oversensitivity. When he could move again, Jim grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor to wipe the remaining semen from their stomachs, before drawing him into a languorous, loving kiss. Spock’s lips were swollen when they parted, and Jim stared appreciatively, gently swiping his thumb across the lower one.

‘T’hy’la, have mercy,’ Spock begged hoarsely, as Jim moved that thumb to his nipple, circling gently.

‘When am I anything but?’ Jim teased, removing his hand and allowing Spock to pull him down to the bed. He cradled Jim against his chest with one strong arm curled across his waist, the fingers of his free hand tenderly skimming across Jim’s forearm. _I love you so much, you know._

_Ha, t’hy’la. Taluhk nash-veh k’dular._

‘What does that mean?’ Jim asked, snuggling into his side. Spock lowered the lights, then nuzzled his nose into Jim’s hair, pressing a few soft kisses there.

‘It means that I cherish thee. A declaration accepted even on Vulcan between bondmates. Jim, tomorrow we must inform my mother of our joining.’

‘Oh God, and Uhura. And Bones!’ Jim groaned. ‘R.I.P me.’

‘I would not let him harm you, taluhk.’

‘I know,’ Jim sighed happily, deciding against reaching for the duvet. The room was just warm enough when they were curled together like this. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss against Spock’s chest, closing his eyes as Spock brushed his fingers against the back of his. Damn, he was worn out. _He wouldn't anyway. Night, Spock._

_Goodnight, my Jim._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I really hope you guys enjoyed reading that as much as I did writing it! Please, please tell me what you thought in the comments, and feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Paint My Spirit Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry - this chapter is entirely self-indulgent, but I think they deserve it! Warning: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT.

Stardate 2261.72. 1430 hours. KL interviewing STS.

This particular meeting was scheduled for an hour ago; unfortunately, Spock was involved in an incident by Gamma Hangar 12 which delayed things somewhat. **[Computer, omit the following.]** In a bout of temper brought on about by an argument concerning nuclear fusion – something I know very little about – a Tellarite physicist saw fit to insult not only the lovely Amanda, but Jim too, with explosive results. It was a single punch, but one that rendered the Tellarite unconscious, and he needed medical attention before he could be persuaded to keep quiet. Spock didn’t ask me not to report his actions, but this isn’t the first time said physicist has made derogatory remarks, and in short: I believe he deserved it. **[Computer, confirm deletion.][Confirmed.]** If I hadn’t been certain that Jim was the partner he had mentioned when we first met, then I certainly am now. On that note, I have something new to question him about.

What is ‘tie-la’, Spock?

_[His expression does not alter, but he goes immediately rigid, eyes boring into mine with frightening intensity.]_

STS: Where did you hear that word?

I… overheard it the other day, when I was packing away my things.

_[That unblinking gaze does not falter for a long few seconds, at which point, his hands fold in his lap.]_

STS: _T’hy’la_ is an Ancient Vulcan term for a remarkable bond. There is no definitive translation.

But there _is_ a translation, however inaccurate?

STS: _[slowly]_ It is generally taken to mean friend, brother, and lover. However, Standard is certainly not as precise as Vulcan.

It sounds pretty special to me.

STS: It is.

_[It seems that this is another subject that Spock is sensitive about, and I’m not going to push it, despite my curiosity.]_

Last time Jim and I spoke, he told me that you decided to wait a week before leaving Des Moines. What were you doing in the meantime?

STS: I was making use of the laboratory, combining whatever suitable chemicals I could find to create explosives. When I had finished, I originally helped my mother and Nyota to plan and memorise potential routes out of the city.

And after that?

STS: I focused on instructing my mother in defensive tactics. We also engaged in weapons training, but my priority was to improve her close-combat skills in case of an unexpected attack.

What about the others? Did you not work with them?

STS: Jim, Nyota and Doctor McCoy had already completed the Starfleet Combat Training Program at the Academy, as had I. _[He shifted in his chair.]_ I, of course, spent the majority of what free time I had with Jim, and we engaged in sparring on occasion. I also worked with Nyota and Leonard, but due to her lack of knowledge concerning practical defence and her importance to myself, my mother was my priority.

Did you feel that a week was enough time to prepare?

STS: The time limit was of little consequence beyond that which was needed to form the explosives and find an escape route. Indeed, I believe that having a fixed deadline was beneficial. It gave us purpose, and prevented us from delaying our departure, no matter what anxieties may have been experienced by my human companions.

You didn’t experience anxiety?

_[Apparently, Spock has now managed to condense ‘I am Vulcan and therefore do not feel’ into a single expression. I move on.]_

Fine. What about your final day? What did you do?

_[The faintest wash of green appears on his cheeks. I can’t tell if it’s just the light.]_

STS:  I… engaged in activities that I knew would be less available in the coming period.

* * *

The morning after his bonding with Jim, Spock woke with a sense of completion unlike anything he had ever before experienced . Although he had habitually lowered the room temperature for Jim’s comfort, the precious bundle lying atop his chest generated warmth enough for a lifetime. If he concentrated, he could hear the quiet buzz of Jim’s contented thoughts as he slept, mostly transient, but all endearing. As a Vulcan, theirs was a stronger bond than he could have ever hoped to have. As a human, they shared a deeper love than he could possibly have imagined. Jim slept on as he pressed his nose into the soft golden hair beneath it, breathing in Jim’s unique musk, at once intensely masculine and somewhat floral, before lightly kissing his crown. This man was a mass of contradictions: powerfully built, and yet far more beautiful than any woman Spock had ever set eyes on; fiercely intelligent, but possessing a casual manner that was liable to lead to underestimation of his capabilities; outwardly overconfident, but with hidden vulnerability, fluctuating self-esteem, and a painful past that Spock knew very few had ever been privy to. Jim was an enigma, and he was Spock’s undoing. A wonderful undoing, nevertheless.

Although the curtains were as tightly shut as always, the light that filtered through was enough to make Jim stir, burrowing restlessly into Spock’s right pectoral in a vain attempt to hide from the sun. It would not be long now before he woke, sleepy and soft, and although it was unlikely that they would have time to make love again, Spock felt his penis twitch at the mere thought of sexual activity with his bondmate. His t’hy’la. He stroked the hand that wasn’t cradling Jim’s head up and down the impressive musculature of his back, marvelling at the incredible revelations of the night previous. To think that he, the half-breed scum of ShiKahr, could have attracted such a beautiful, compatible bondmate. T’Pring had scorned him long ago, and so had every potential partner since, apart from Nyota, and his precious Jim. A t’hy’la bond was something he had never dared hope for, not such an exquisite joining as this. The low murmur of Jim’s thoughts began to increase in clarity, and he whined as Spock kissed his temple, squirming. He shifted so that the velvet-soft skin of his penis dragged along Spock’s, forcing Spock to engage in a vicious clampdown on his arousal.

_feraljoannaiowakevinspocklovepleasuret’hy’laSpock?_

Jim’s eyelashes fluttered, and when Spock dragged two fingers down his reddened cheek, he made a burbling noise of discontent at his awakening.

_Good morning, ashayam,_ Spock projected fondly. _It is time to wake._

‘Sp’k?’

Jim’s hand flexed against his chest, fingers briefly curling in the hair there as his eyes partially opened, the temptation of sleep still evidently upon him.

‘Were you expecting an alternative bed partner?’

‘Mmm, never.’ As Jim tilted his head up, Spock leant down and pressed their lips together gently, doubly pleased when Jim manipulated his pliant hand into a Vulcan kiss. Jim pressed a number of soft, staccato kisses against his mouth before they parted, bright, and indescribably beautiful as he hovered over him in the early-morning sunlight. He wore a tender smile, and he looked at Spock with a gaze so reverent that it made his heart clench in his side. _Are we married now?_

_Not in the Terran way, but in the Vulcan,_ Spock replied. _Our bond would be recognised by T’Pau, she who is my grandmother, and thus, we have the right to call one another sa-telsu._

‘Sa-telsu?’ Jim echoed, nuzzling their noses together in a remarkably delightful manner. ‘Does that mean husband?’

‘Yes, my Jim.’

Jim beamed, flushing in evident pleasure, and Spock was not entirely surprised to feel his arousal burn through the bond.

‘Sure we haven’t got time to make love before the others get suspicious?’ Jim asked hopefully, pressing the physical manifestation of his desire against Spock’s thigh. Spock nodded, pushing his regret, and his own simmering arousal, through their connection. ‘Well, what’s to stop us sharing a shower?’

With a final, teasing kiss, Jim rose from the bed, his naked body stunning in its perfection. His penis, heavy with blood and flushed a deep red at the glans, jutted proudly outwards from his torso. Spock stared, enraptured. Surely, this was Apollo in human form.

_You gonna come, t’hy’la?_ Jim projected, smirking at the double entendre. Spock had never been so enthused to be doused in lukewarm water.

After a thoroughly enjoyable shower, two meals during which Jim had insisted on continuously rubbing his inner thigh, and the completion of his explosive compositions, Spock went to find his mother. He knocked on the heavy library door and was called inside, entering to see piles upon piles of maps, charts and notebooks strewn across the heavy table to his left, Amanda and Nyota sitting across from one another. They looked up as he approached.

‘Spock!’ Nyota smiled. ‘We were just thinking of finishing for the day.’

‘That is fortuitous, as I wish to speak with you both.’

He swallowed in a rare show of nervousness, and his mother rounded the table, wearing a concerned expression as she came to stand beside Nyota.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

Though he knew it to be selfish, Spock focused on her face rather than Nyota’s. He did not wish to see the hurt his words would inevitably cause.

‘There is nothing wrong,’ he said, tugging on the hem of his jumper to straighten it. ‘I merely wished to inform you that James and I have bonded.’

There was a moment of shocked silence, during which he saw a spasm of pain pass over Nyota’s face out of the corner of his eye, but then the quiet was broken with a delighted ‘Oh!’. His mother reached for him, drawing him into a tight embrace.

‘Spock, that’s wonderful!’ she enthused, pulling back before he could, and clasping his forearms. ‘I’m so happy for you, darling.’

It would have been so easy to concentrate on her, and only her, but Nyota deserved his attention. With a gentle half-smile, he slipped his arms from his mother’s grasp, and turned his face towards her. Her expression was relatively neutral, but her eyes were glassy with tears.

‘Are you- are you happy?’ she asked quietly, her hands clasping together in front of her stomach.

‘I am,’ Spock confirmed. ‘Incredibly so.’

She smiled, blinking hard to avoid overspill.

‘I’m glad. That’s what I want for you. I’ll- I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?’

‘Of course, dear,’ Amanda said warmly, and with another tremulous smile, Nyota hurried out the door.

‘Should I follow her?’

‘No, Spock, leave her be. She’ll be alright,’ his mother replied, her vicarious joy plain upon her face. ‘Now, talk to me about the bond.’

She sat in the chair Nyota had vacated, and pulled a second out for him, gesturing for him to sit. He did so gladly, her warmth another touchstone in this new, disorientating reality.

‘I already informed you of the connection between Jim and I, and after your admission of the similarity with the connection between yourself and Sa-mekh, I began to consider the possibility of a bond. My desire to do so has only grown stronger in the past few weeks, and when I informed Jim last night, he was receptive to the idea.’

‘So you bonded then?’

Spock shook his head.

‘There is more,’ he explained, basking in the happiness she exuded. ‘I will not betray Jim’s privacy, but last night, he was troubled, and after I stated my desire to wed, we melded. Amongst the many horrors I saw in his past, I also found something extraordinary. Jim is my t’hy’la.’

As anticipated, her mouth dropped open in shock. What was not anticipated, however, was the fact that she burst into noisy tears a few seconds later.

‘Mother?’ he bleated, while she flapped her hands dismissively at him, her smile at odds with her tears.

‘You know what I’m like, Spock,’ she said, laughing and crying at the same time. ‘You have a t’hy’la bond! I couldn’t have wished for anything better – I’m so happy for you, pi’veh.’

‘Thank you, mother. I never expected such a bondmate, let alone a t’hy’la. I… I love him, mother.’

‘Of course you do,’ she beamed, leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. Spock started, then settled. ‘I’m so pleased that you’ve found someone who will love you like you deserve.’

Spock allowed himself the faintest quirk of lips, which appeared to please his mother no end.

‘Jim is certainly that person. Today he has ‘drawn the short straw’, as you might say. While I anticipated a positive conversation between ourselves, he has been tasked with informing Doctor McCoy.’

‘Oh, Leonard may be grumpy, but he only wants the best for Jim, as Nyota wants the best for you. It’ll be fine, Spock.’

‘Indeed,’ Spock breathed, although he was not sure he agreed with her last assertion. ‘I also wished to ask you whether you would agree to combat training before we leave. I do not want you to be defenceless.’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t want to slow the group down.’

‘I am more concerned for your safety than for the speed of the group,’ Spock said quietly, rising from his chair. ‘If you do not object, I would like to begin now.’

‘Sure.’

It was the first of many sessions that week, in between his own work and route planning, and on the fourth day, Spock found something of interest in the library. While attempting to find a book that would teach him how to mend a broken automobile, he found another, with rather more salacious content. He and Jim slept in the same bed every night, and had made love on a number of occasions, but due to his own nervousness and inexperience, had not progressed any further than they had during their first time. It was not for lack of wanting, from either of them, and Spock was frustrated with his own reticence, even if Jim was not. The book, lying horizontally on top of a neat line of others, was without a title, and without an author. He opened it out of curiosity, and upon doing so, almost dropped it, cheeks flaming. There were… depictions of sexual situations. Detailed descriptions, and instructions the like of which Spock had never read. Skimming quickly through the first few chapters, he attempted to mute his arousal so that Jim did not feel it through the bond, his pulse rising as he read of ways to maximise human pleasure that he had not considered. When his mother called to him, he returned the nondescript book to its place, vowing to return to read the rest of it when he could.

On the final day before their departure date, when all other preparations had been made, he finished reading with a new-born confidence, anticipation licking at his shields. After dinner, during which Jim had seemed baffled, but pleased, by his increase in affectionate display – although Doctor McCoy had seemed much less so – Spock led him up to their room. Once inside, Jim drew him into a warm embrace, pressing their foreheads together.

‘What’s gotten into you today?’ he asked delightedly, nuzzling his nose against Spock’s. ‘Not that I’m complaining, even if Bones looked like he was going to end it all with a fork.’

Spock basked in Jim’s tangible devotion for a long moment, closing his eyes against the outpouring of affection that he welcomed behind the shields he almost always dropped for his t’hy’la. He initiated a soft kiss, sending his own adoration back as Jim stroked a thumb across his eyebrow, before breaking away.

_C’mon then, what’s up?_

_I discovered a book in the library which… intrigued me,_ he replied, flushing under Jim’s amused gaze. _It is an instruction manual of sorts, concerning intercourse with humans._

‘I thought you seemed worked up,’ Jim grinned, running a finger over the point of his ear, inducing a shiver. Through their connection, he could feel Jim’s initial amusement and arousal fade a little, replaced with concern. ‘You know, I’m grateful to have you at all. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, Spock. I love you, and for some ridiculous reason, you love me too. That’s enough for me. More than enough. You don’t have to push yourself for me.’

‘I am not. I wish to join with you fully, and I feel more prepared to do so, having read the manual.’

‘You could’ve just asked me, you know,’ Jim pouted, lacing their fingers together. ‘I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.’

Spock flushed darker, glad for their privacy.

‘I wish to maximise your pleasure without requiring you to concentrate on instructing me. Jim, I-I want you.’

The intensity of Jim’s desire made Spock gasp, preternaturally blue eyes burning into his before Jim descended to press a series of hot, wet kisses against his neck, holding him close.

_How do you want me, sweetheart?_ Jim asked, worrying at one particular area, sucking and nibbling until Spock knew there would be a visible mark there. _You want to be inside me? I can make it so good for you, t’hy’la. Or do you want it the other way round?_

_Both,_ Spock rasped, moaning aloud as Jim suckled on the tip of his ear. _All. I want all of you._

To his dismay, Jim drew back, smiling fondly at his noise of protest.

‘I won’t be long, I promise. We need lube, love, and maybe some stuff for afterwards. I could try and get it from the replicators downstairs, but it might not be programmed in, and I don’t think you’ll want to wait. I’ve got a better idea.’

He pressed another lingering kiss against Spock’s pliant lips, before striding out of their room, crossing the hall, and knocking on Doctor McCoy’s door. Spock stiffened, making to intervene, but when he saw the metal begin to move, he quickly sidestepped out of sight. He was not hiding. He was merely avoiding an uncomfortable situation. Still, his sensitive hearing picked up the discussion between his bondmate and the Doctor.

‘Bones, have you got any… cream?’

‘Cream?’

‘Yeah, y’know. Salve. For, uh…’

Spock could only assume that there was a gesture being made, due to Doctor McCoy’s angry reply.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. There are things I don’t need to know, there are things I don’t want to know, and then there’s _that.’_

‘Also, lube.’

‘Dammit, Jim!’

Spock twitched at the sound of the Doctor’s grating voice, thankful when Jim returned and closed the door, a bottle in each hand. Jim abandoned them on the bedside table and approached him, pulling him over to the bed and kicking his boots off.

‘Wanna show me what you’ve learned?’ he grinned, as Spock did the same. Spock wanted to say yes, but uncertainty rose once more, and his answer died in his throat. Jim, evidently feeling his indecision, sent a wave of reassurance through the bond. ‘We don’t have to if you don’t want to. You know you’re my first guy too, really. One that I wanted, anyway.’

Spock’s heart clenched, and he made sure that Jim could feel his unconditional love as he pressed their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss.

‘I want you in all ways, my Jim, but perhaps you would take the lead for now?’

Jim smiled, and kissed him, long, and slow, and deep. Spock was already entirely aware of his bodily functions, but with Jim, everything seemed heightened. Every rush of blood pulsing in his ears, every breath dragging through his lungs, every shift of fabric against hypersensitive skin. When they broke apart, panting, Jim fingered the hem of his jumper in question, and tugged it off after his silent affirmation. In the relative cool of the room, Spock felt his nipples tighten, and Jim fixated upon them, circling his thumb around one stiff peak.

_God, you turn me on so much._

_The feeling is mutual, ashayam,_ he replied, allowing Jim to guide him down onto the bed, watching hungrily as his beautiful bondmate removed his own shirt. Jim settled on top of him, jeans beginning to distend in arousal, and as their lower bodies came into contact, Spock could feel himself hardening.

‘So beautiful,’ Jim whispered, sucking another love-mark into his neck before trailing kisses down the swell of Spock’s chest until he reached his nipple. He dragged the flat of his tongue against it, and Spock let out a shaky, breathy whine, legs tightening reflexively around his waist. He could feel Jim smile against his chest before he fastened soft lips around his nipple and sucked gently, his hot tongue swirling around the areola and flicking over the teat until Spock was mewling with the overstimulation.

‘Jim!’ he choked as Jim carefully grazed his teeth over it, only succeeding in inducing him to swap to his other side. He tangled his fingers in Jim’s soft hair, pulling with each soft suck, the slide of it through his sensitive fingers adding to his pleasure. Under Jim’s pleasurable torture, he had hardened fully, his erection pressing uncomfortably against his trouser seam, and when it became too much to bear, he shifted in an attempt to relieve himself. Jim released his flushed nipple with a soft kiss to his areola, hands roaming over his stomach, playing with the hair there as he followed with his mouth. Spock squirmed when Jim reached his navel, dipping his tongue repeatedly in the small aperture there, before kissing his way from hip to hip along the waistband of Spock’s trousers. He looked up, pupils dilated so that there was only a thin ring of blue surrounding the black, fingers playing with the button there.

_Can I?_

_‘Yes,’_ Spock said breathily, raising his hips as Jim flicked open the button and pulled down his zipper, and together, they managed to remove his trousers. Jim all but ripped his own pants off, sliding his hand down Spock’s leg until they reached his foot, bending his leg and stroking his thumb hard over the arch of it. Spock shivered, confused by his reaction, but aroused all the same. With tangible smugness, Jim dragged his tongue slowly over the arch, mouthing at it until Spock squirmed impatiently. ‘Jim, I need-’

He lost the breath required to speak further as Jim kissed his way up his calf, flicking his tongue out against the sensitive skin at the back of his knee, before slowly, _slowly_ making his way up his inner thigh. Jim’s mouth was burning, and he let his legs fall open underneath it. Under normal circumstances, it would have made him uncomfortable to put himself on display, but this was different. He could feel Jim’s love for him through the bond, through the warm hands stroking the outside of his thighs, and in the soft gaze directed at him as Jim pushed the fabric of his boxer shorts up and pressed a final, gentle kiss to the place where his leg and hip connected. Spock had never felt such arousal, and Jim’s own was simply intoxicating, driving him higher as Jim nosed at the tent in his boxer shorts, inhaling deeply.

‘I want you so bad,’ he growled, and Spock would have replied but for the squeak that was torn from his throat as Jim moulded his mouth over his fabric-covered erection, sucking strongly. His penis twitched as saliva soaked through the material, delicious pressure against the head of his cock, but it wasn’t enough.

_Taluhk, please,_ he begged, and Jim rewarded him by tugging his boxers off. He hadn’t realised quite how much lubricating fluid he had produced in his arousal, but now he could see how it pooled in the cradle of his hips, wetting his pubic hair as it seeped from the tip of his cock. Jim moaned as he dragged his fingers through it, his desire pulsing through the bond.

‘God, honey, you’re soaked.’

He bent and lapped at the base of Spock’s erection, making obscene noises of enjoyment as he did so, lips and chin shining with fluid as he pulled away. Spock swiped his fingers across what remained, whimpering as Jim took those fingers into his mouth and sucked hard.

‘Jim… Jim, please!’

He was released with a final kiss to the pad of each finger, only for Jim to wrap a hand around his erection. Paralysed by the unexpected pleasure, Spock could only push his aching, drooling cock through the tight hole Jim’s fingers had formed, but that glorious hand was soon removed, and he would have protested were it not for the fact that Jim immediately slid down the bed and pressed a soft kiss to his glans.

‘Tell me what you want, sweetheart,’ he purred, lips ghosting over his dripping erection. ‘You want my mouth?’

_‘Yesss,’_ Spock hissed, so close to that wet heat that it hurt.

‘What do you want me to do with it? Tell me, Spock. Tell me what you want me to do with my mouth.’

‘I want- I want-’ He floundered, bolstered by the wave of reassurance Jim sent through the bond. Warm fingers tangled with his and squeezed. ‘I want you to take my penis in your mou- _ah!’_

He moaned as Jim did as he asked, taking the head of his cock into burning wet heat, sucking with enthusiasm. One hand wrapped around the shaft and stroked in rhythm with Jim’s mouth, and Spock whined at the perfect synchronicity, fully aware of how aroused Jim was by his vocalisations. It was a first for them both – Jim giving, him receiving – and although he knew that Jim was inexperienced, Spock was out of his mind with pleasure. That was, until Jim descended too far and choked. With great difficulty, he pulled himself out of Jim’s mouth, ignoring his protestations.

‘T’hy’la, I do not wish you to injure yourself.’

‘I’m fine,’ Jim rasped, lips wet and swollen. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll get better-’

‘Do not apologise,’ Spock murmured, stroking his thumb across Jim’s cheekbone. ‘If you had continued with your ministrations, you would have brought me to climax in approximately 34 seconds.’

Jim’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. ‘Is that so?’

Spock did not have time to answer in the affirmative, because Jim’s tongue flicked out over the head of his penis, gathering the fluid welling there. Spock squirmed as his lips stretched back over the glans, sucking noisily, tongue teasing the slit.

_How long?_

_43 seconds. Haaaa, t’hy’la, please!_

Jim hummed, sending sparks of sensation straight to his testicles, and his stomach muscles clenched in anticipation of climax.

_How long? Let me hear you, honey, I want to hear you come._

‘Four-fourteen seconds,’ Spock gasped, hips rocking uncontrollably into the slickness of Jim’s mouth, saliva dribbling down to mix with the fluid he was now soaking the bed beneath him with. He whimpered as Jim took his sac in hand, gently playing with the testicles within as he rubbed himself shamelessly against the duvet.

_Let me hear you,_ Jim cooed, as the waves of pleasure became contractions, rising higher, and higher. Spock growled low in his throat, the noise quickly rising in pitch as his testicles tightened. _Yes, my love, let me hear you._

Spock heeded his request as orgasm took him, crying out his pleasure as he released into Jim’s waiting mouth, anchored to the bed by warm hands on his hips. Jim sucked and sucked until he was twitching, and he pushed his head away, too sensitive for more. Still, Jim lapped gently at his softening penis, cleaning him with long, slow pulls of his tongue, before rising up the bed for a kiss. Spock cradled Jim’s face reverently as their lips slid together, the taste of himself on Jim’s questing tongue dimly arousing. When they parted, there was still a dribble of semen on Jim’s chin, and he gathered the remainder with his thumb to push into Jim’s mouth, which was taken in without hesitation. After releasing his thumb, Jim stroked a hand down his chest, circling a nipple.

‘I love you,’ Spock blurted, his heart palpating with the rush of affection he felt obliged to deliver.

‘Mmm, I love you too. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you come? I could bring you to climax over and over for the rest of my life and be happy.’

‘Perhaps mutual gratification would be better,’ Spock suggested, eyeing Jim’s underwear.

‘Yeah,’ Jim grinned, smoothing a hand over one of his splayed thighs. With that soft touch, desire begin to burn within him again, his penis starting to fill once more. ‘But little Spock is telling me he wants to go again, so are you still up for… you know?’

‘Yes, Jim, I wish for you to penetrate me.’

Jim groaned, bending to kiss Spock’s swelling penis, which delivered another jolt of arousal.

‘It’s so sexy when you talk like that. Bet you could make me come just by talking. We should try one day. Can you raise your hips a second?’

Spock did so, nerves beginning to coil in his stomach as Jim snagged a pillow and settled it beneath him.

‘We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, darling,’ Jim said softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the inside of his knee. Spock shook his head, opening his legs wider in invitation.

_I want you._

‘Fuck,’ Jim growled, and Spock’s breath hitched as he sucked a lovebite into his inner thigh. ‘Did you read about this in your book?’

‘What act specifically do you- _ohhhh.’_

Jim had flattened himself against the bed, thumbs holding his cleft open as he swiped his tongue over Spock’s most intimate area. Spock _had_ read about this in his book, but he had not understood the pleasure that it could bring until now, with Jim wetly circling his fluttering hole. His erection returned with a vengeance, pulsating with need as Jim alternated between long, slow licks and short stabs of his tongue, working open the loosened muscle.

_Good?_

‘Oh, yes. _Yes!’_ Spock moaned, writhing as Jim concentrated solely on penetrating him, tongue pushing roughly back and forth in a maddening rhythm. Then, the wonderful wetness disappeared, and he whimpered in frustration, feeling his hole clench on empty air.

‘Shhh, baby, I won’t be a second,’ Jim crooned, snatching the lubricant from the bedside table before returning. ‘Are you okay if I use my fingers?’

‘Please, t’hy’la,’ Spock begged, his lust for Jim overriding any previous anxiety. He squirmed in delight as Jim’s tongue pushed back into him, and a slick finger was gently entered alongside. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but not a negative one, and the catch of it against his rim as Jim slowly began a back-and-forth movement was soothed by the soft laps around it. The second proved a little more of a challenge, the slightest edge of discomfort accompanying the scissoring motion Jim made. Spock tried consciously to relax his muscles, grateful for his control, and was soon pushing back against the gentle stretch of fingers and tongue, whining in displeasure as the glorious wetness disappeared.

‘Shhh, sweetheart,’ Jim murmured, rising up the bed, pressing kisses to his stomach, his chest, his collarbone. ‘You’re gonna love this.’

He crooked his fingers against what must have been his prostate, and a shock of pleasure left him convulsing, his stomach twisting. As Spock’s broken cry reverberated through him, he could feel Jim’s lips curve against his neck.

_Knew you’d like that,_ Jim purred, rubbing and stroking in a way that rendered him incoherent. He barely felt the addition of a third finger, his cock twitching and leaking against his belly.

_‘Jim,’_ he moaned, hips undulating as he chased that unique pleasure. ‘Jim, I am ready.’

_Just a little longer, honey._

Jim kissed him deeply, and despite knowing that it was an attempt at distraction, Spock gave in and curled their tongues together, ignoring Jim’s bright burst of amusement. Despite his acquiescence, he wriggled impatiently, finally reaching down to squeeze Jim’s erection through his boxer shorts. With a spasm of shock and a throaty moan, Jim separated their lips and withdrew his fingers, sitting back on his heels.

‘You sure you’re ready?’ he asked breathlessly. In response, Spock leant forwards and tugged roughly at his underwear. Jim laughed, indulging his impatience. ‘Hey, hey, alright. They’re coming off now.’

Together, they managed to disentangle Jim from his boxers, and Spock watched hungrily as his thick, swollen penis was revealed, bobbing slightly as it caught on the fabric.

‘Don’t look at me like that, or I’ll come before we’ve started,’ Jim warned, reaching for the lubricant. ‘Shit. I didn’t ask for a condom, do you want me to go and find one? I mean, I’m clean, but- _ohhh…’_

Spock had found the lubricant in an innocuous fold of the bedclothes, and with one shaking hand, he reached forward and slicked Jim’s erection, the heat of it heavenly against his sensitised fingers.

_Please, Jim. Please, t’hy’la. I need you._

He lay back and pulled his knees up and apart, exposing himself to Jim’s heated gaze.

‘Oh God,’ Jim whispered, crawling forward to press himself against Spock’s stretched hole. ‘If you need me to stop, just tell me, alright? I love you.’

Spock responded in kind, holding Jim close as he slowly pushed in, the slight burn of it irrelevant in the face of Jim’s obvious pleasure, the bond thrumming with it, his expression open and radiant, his breath shuddering from his lungs.

‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’

Spock nodded, words escaping him, and he buried his face in Jim’s neck, testing the waters with a slow roll of his hips, then another when he found that the burn had dissipated, leaving only an uncomfortable stretch behind. Jim cradled his cheeks and kissed him passionately, still but for the odd twitch of his hips as Spock cautiously bore down. When they parted, Jim gasping for air, he had relaxed enough that he felt no more pain.

‘Move, Jim, please,’ he begged, feeling the groan reverberate through Jim’s chest as he complied, beginning a series of long, smooth strokes that would have been pleasant enough without Jim finding his prostate on his third attempt. A high-pitched whine fell from his lips, hips bucking of their own accord, and he held tight to Jim’s broad, sweat-slick shoulders, fearing he might lose himself in pleasure. Jim sucked on his earlobe, bit down gently on the curve where his shoulder and neck met, all the while keeping a maddeningly steady rhythm that Spock writhed against, the relentless drag of Jim’s cock over his prostate driving him slowly to the brink. He dimly recognised his own cries of pleasure rising above Jim’s desperate babbling, not caring in the slightest about his loss of control – after all Jim had said that he enjoyed his vocalisations.

‘Yeah, baby, I love it,’ Jim panted, pushing his cheek into Spock’s questing hand. ‘You’re so gorgeous like this, so beautiful. I wanna hear you scream for me. Meld us, t’hy’la. I want it.’

Spock’s fingers scrabbled for his meld points, drawing their minds together with remarkable ease, his Vulcan half as pleasured by the mental joining as his human half was by the physical. Melding was euphoric – Spock was still very much aware of their corporeal movements, feeling the drive against his prostate and the hand milking his erection, but the meld amplified them, Jim’s desire thrumming through his mind as if it was another layer of his own.

‘Oh God,’ Jim moaned, evidently overwhelmed by the amalgamation of their pleasure. He kissed him roughly, hips snapping harder and faster according to Spock’s unspoken want. ‘You’re close, I can feel it.’

Jim was close too; Spock could feel it in the ripples of ecstasy crossing their connection, and when a tightening began to spread from his testicles, he squeezed his muscles around Jim’s cock. Jim’s breath stuttered, and he teased the slit of Spock’s erection with his thumb in retaliation.

‘T’hy’la, _t’hy’la,’_ Spock choked, pleasured almost to the point of pain. He grabbed a fistful of Jim’s hair and tugged, unsure whether to thrust back into Jim’s cock or forward into Jim’s slick hand as pleasure coiled in his stomach. His cries rose in volume in tandem with Jim’s as they connected mind and body, his sac tight and throbbing, and when Jim flicked his thumb across his frenulum, he lost himself completely. ‘K’diwa, sanu! Sanu!’

Climax was indescribable, rippling between them through the bond in a wave of glorious completion. A scream tore itself from his throat, wild and unrestrained, drowning out Jim’s pleasured sob as orgasm took him too, emptying himself into Spock as Spock’s erection spurted pulse after pulse of thick semen onto their stomachs. As he attempted to regain coherency, the meld having broken with orgasm, Jim rained kisses down on his face. He pulled gently out of him, leaving behind only slight discomfort.

‘I love you so much,’ he murmured sweetly, nuzzling into his cheek as Spock whispered it back. ‘You owe me some translations, _k’diwa.’_

Arousal roared through Spock once more at the ancient address coming from his bondmate, and he took Jim’s lips hungrily, tongue plundering his mouth as his erection returned with a vengeance, throbbing against Jim’s hip.

‘Holy shit,’ Jim panted, breaking away to gasp for air. ‘I can’t go again, not yet.’

_I can help, if you wish._

Jim nodded, and Spock let his desire flow through the bond, sparking the pleasure centres in Jim’s brain so that his cock rose once more. Jim laughed in delight.

‘That’s awesome! Also, what does k’diwa mean?’

‘It is a derivative of k’hat’n’dlawa,’ Spock purred, pulling Jim onto his lap and latching onto a nipple, revelling in his squeak. _It means ‘one who is 'half of my heart and soul’._

‘Oh God. Whoever said Vulcans weren’t romantic?’

He was pulled away from the nipple in his mouth as Jim kissed his neck, then reached for his hand, taking two fingers into his hot, wet mouth. Spock whimpered, watching closely as Jim sucked on his sensitive fingers, flicking his tongue over the webbing between them and dragging his teeth gently over the pads until he was trembling in need.

‘Jim,’ he began, startled by the roughness of his voice. ‘I want- I wish-’

Jim smiled, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene pop.

‘You can do whatever you want with me, sweetheart.’

Permission granted, Spock growled his approval, lying back and taking Jim’s hips in his hands. Jim squealed as he dragged him up the bed, burying his face between the globes of his backside, setting his tongue to work. He revelled in Jim’s pleasured cries as he lapped at his hole, stopping only to push his tongue into the tightly furled muscle, before sealing his lips over it to suck. The headboard creaked as Jim clutched at it, rocking back into Spock’s face, his heavy sac rubbing over Spock’s forehead as he writhed.

‘Please, love,’ he moaned, as Spock ruthlessly thrust his tongue inside. ‘I’ll come, and I want you in me _now.’_

With one last, slow lick, Spock moved so that his back was against the headboard, Jim on his knees straddling his lap. He ignored the gentle sting in his backside in favour of concentrating on his t’hy’la.

_I love how you can move me like that,_ Jim told him, flushed with pleasure. He pulled Spock into a soft kiss, pushing the lube that he had found into his hand. _It’s so damn sexy._

_I am glad you think so t’hy’la. Are you certain you wish for penetration?_

Jim groaned, face buried in his neck.

‘Want you in me,’ he said, voice muffled by Spock’s skin. ‘Never let anyone else do this. Never trusted anyone else.’

Love and empathy welled within Spock, and he let it pour from him into his bondmate, slicking the fingers of one hand with lubricant as the other cradled Jim’s head. In preparing him, Spock took care to be as gentle as he could, knowing Jim’s past experience with this act was traumatic to say the least. Fortunately, though he remained alert to any fear or discomfort, Spock found that Jim displayed no such emotions. Instead, he rocked back into Spock’s probing fingers, the way he squeezed his muscles around them making Spock’s erection pulsate. Jim whimpered into his neck, breathy little _‘oh!’s_ leaving his lush, parted lips with every brush against his prostate, eyes hazy with desire. His pleasure seeped into Spock, intoxicating him.

‘Now, Spock,’ Jim gasped, his cock smearing sticky trails across Spock’s stomach. ‘Please, love, now.’

With a shuddering sigh as his sensitive fingers left the heat of Jim’s body, Spock applied lubricant to his erection and kissed Jim softly, feeling trembling hands settle on his chest. Nerves fluttered through the bond, but they were quickly outweighed by arousal, and when Spock looked him in the eye, he knew Jim was certain.

‘I will stop whenever you wish, taluhk,’ he murmured, guiding his slick penis to Jim’s entrance, allowing him to sink down onto it. Well-prepared, Jim seemed to be in very little pain, the only tangible discomfort evident when Spock was sunk into him to the hilt. ‘Are you well, Jim?’

Jim nodded, his arms looped around Spock with his hands resting on his shoulders.

‘M’fine, just a minute.’

Spock kissed his temple, enveloping him in an embrace as he tried his best to remain as still as possible, waiting for him to adjust.

_Move, Spock._

As gently as he could, Spock withdrew a few inches, beginning a slow rhythm of shallow thrusts that made Jim hum into his neck. The molten tightness around his cock was heavenly, and he was pleased when Jim began his own tentative rocking motions, the discomfort that had been previously shared fading as his muscles relaxed. Spock sighed in pleasure as they moved together, making a concerted effort to locate Jim’s prostate, and knew he had when his name stuttered from Jim’s lips, followed by a thin, frail noise that made Spock’s stomach flip. He could feel Jim’s desire to move faster, harder, but he refrained from giving in, wanting to make love to him in a way that would push his darkest memories to the back of his mind. Jim keened, matching Spock’s quiet moans in glorious antiphony, his sweat-slick hands slipping against his shoulders. Jim was so tight around his cock, his soft cries so arousing, and Spock took pleasure in his pleasure, shivering as Jim licked and kissed at his neck. As Jim’s vocalisations rose in volume, his legs began to tremble, and Spock made an executive decision by slipping out of him, rolling them over.

‘Hush, t’hy’la,’ he crooned in response to Jim’s disappointed whine, raising one of Jim’s legs over his shoulder as he pushed back in with a pleasured groan. The minor disruption had not staved off orgasm whatsoever, and heat began to build in his lower body as Jim arched his back, hips working desperately to bring him to climax. Spock’s chest rumbled in pleasure at seeing his bondmate so wanton, holding himself up with one hand as the other stroked Jim’s cock.

‘Spock!’ Jim gasped, exhalations increasing in force and pitch as he writhed. ‘Spock, please, I wanna come. Make me come.’

_Ha, k’diwa. Sarlah na’wani..._

Jim may not have understood his words, but he surely understood the command behind them, and as Spock finally picked up speed, single-minded in his desire to bring him to completion, he felt Jim’s orgasm sear through the bond. Jim wailed, come pulsing into Spock’s hand in thick spurts as he jerked in ecstasy. The echo of his pleasure was enough to drive Spock to his own climax, Jim’s hands stroking over his back and buttocks as he lost his rhythm, burying his face in Jim’s neck as he came with a soft cry. The contractions of orgasm were seemingly endless, but eventually, he collapsed on top of Jim, trembling with the aftershocks.

‘Good?’ Jim asked, his tone smug. Spock didn’t need to see his expression to know what it looked like. Refusing to rise to the bait, he lifted his head and kissed him gently, the passion lost to something more tender.

‘I love you, James.’

Their connection flared with joy so strong that it took Spock’s breath away.

‘I love you too,’ Jim whispered, smoothing his hair down. ‘So much.’

They kissed for a long, perfect moment, but Spock was soon shifting in discomfort, aware of the various fluids that both of them were covered in. He slipped out of Jim as carefully as possible – unfortunately, not managing to avoid a wince – before standing.

_I will be back momentarily, t’hy’la._

He winced himself as he made his way to the bathroom, the sting in his backside eclipsed by the unique feeling of semen leaking from inside him, not to mention that which had dried in stripes across his stomach and chest. He cleaned himself off quickly with a wet cloth, then returned to Jim, who was sprawled across the bed with an arm over his eyes. Jim jumped at the first drag of the cloth against his skin, but then he uncovered his eyes and lay limp under Spock’s ministrations, shivering as Spock lifted his leg to gently dab at his entrance.

‘Where am I to sleep tonight, ashayam?’ Spock asked pointedly, gesturing to his spread-eagled position on the bed.

‘Guess you’ll just have to move me,’ Jim grinned, squeaking as Spock abandoned the cloth and manhandled him over to his side of the bed. ‘Hey, you didn’t meld us.’

‘Melding is not necessary for climax, but it is a welcome addition. I simply did not wish to overtax you.’

Jim made a vague sound of acknowledgement, throwing an arm and a leg over his body and pulling tight, making them as close as humanly (and Vulcan-ly) possible. Spock found that he did not mind. He brought the lights down to ten percent, aware of Jim’s preferences for avoiding total darkness, and buried his face in Jim’s soft hair.

‘You scared about tomorrow?’

‘I am… apprehensive,’ Spock admitted. ‘I fear that I will not be able to keep you or my mother safe. You are my life, Jim. Nyota and I faced many dangers on our journey here, and I am aware that you and Doctor McCoy did also, but the future is uncertain outside these walls.’

For a long while, Jim was silent, and Spock thought perhaps he had fallen asleep.

‘I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you all safe.’ Spock could feel his lips curve against his chest. ‘I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Sanu' means 'please', 'ha' means 'yes', and although I'm sure my grammar is atrocious, I think 'Sarlah na'wani' means 'come for me'. I can't figure out how to get translations to come up when you hover over a word, so if anyone's got any ideas, please let me know! 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know if you did!! The next one after this pleasant interlude will go right back into the action, in Bones' POV, which is always fun to write :D If you've got a tumblr, feel free to check out mine [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!


	12. That Which Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan, the worst of the gore is probably from 'There had been a few times that morning...' to 'arms burning from the effort of keeping them up in a defensive stance.' <3

Stardate 2261.73. 0815 hours. KL interviewing LHM.

Leonard is infinitely more pleasant upon our second meeting, which just goes to show that first impressions aren’t always correct. He insists upon examining a cut on my arm that even I hadn’t noticed, pulling a dermal regenerator from seemingly nowhere to fix it. He has apologised multiple times for his previous attitude, but I have long since forgiven him – and tell him so. Grief is a poisonous thing. Despite his profuse apologies, however, he still can’t help but grumble about being here.

LHM: Not to be rude, ma’am, but I’ve always got patients to see to.

_[He swings the regenerator round as he speaks, handling it like I have seen some of the others handling weapons.]_

I’m sure Doctor M’Benga and the nurses can hold the fort until you return. Besides, I have it on good authority that this is meant to be time off for you.

LHM: _[scowling]_ I don’t have time off – how can I when I’m on a tin can full of impulsive, self-sacrificing babies? Or maybe that’s just Jim.

Oh, come on, what kind of trouble can he get himself into here? The ship is docked, for goodness’ sake.

LHM: Don’t ask that question. Never ask that question, because if there’s trouble to be found – mark my words – James Tiberius Kirk will find it. And I’ll be up all night sewin’ him back together while his hobgoblin- _[His breath catches, and he eyes me uneasily before continuing.]_ While the crew look on.

Well, I’ll try my best not to keep you, but in the case of any Jim Kirk-related disasters, you’re free to go.

LHM: Well, thank you. What’s the theme of today’s interrogation?

Leaving Des Moines.

LHM: It wasn’t the best day of my life, I can tell you that.

I thought you guys had a plan to get out of the city.

LHM: _[snorts]_ Oh, we did. But think about it – we were trying to get halfway across Des Moines with thousands, possibly millions, of flesh-eatin’, herd-walkin’ cadavers. You don’t need Spock to tell you that our chances of surviving weren’t 100%. We could’ve planned for a year, and we would've still gotten into trouble.

Talk me through the morning you left.

LHM: We were meant to be leavin' at the crack of dawn so we’d have the best chance of gettin’ out before dark, even if we got stuck. Luckily, I’m used to wakin' up at ungodly hours, and Amanda and Nyota seemed to do alright. Jim is terrible at gettin’ out of bed, but Spock is a suitably irritating alarm clock.

_[He scoots back in the chair, resting the dermal regenerator on his leg.]_

LHM: I wasn’t exactly peachy keen on goin’, but I knew we had to if we were gonna get any semblance of closure. Plus, Jim the human pinball doesn’t settle well, and he might actually have annoyed me to death. After breakfast that mornin’, we gathered our things together, along with the stuff we’d collected over the past week. We had extra phasers, tins of food and water bottles, plus a purification kit. And we had Spock’s Molotovs too.

How many?

LHM: Only three or four. There wasn’t that much phosphorous, apparently. It was more than we’d had on the way in, though, and we all survived that.

Did you have any specific ideas about what you were going to do?

LHM: What, like tactics? _[He snorts derisively.]_ We had nothin’ apart from the knowledge that Jim was leadin’ us. Jim is best at thinkin’ on his feet, and we were entering an unpredictable situation. If any of us got in trouble, the others had our back – or at least, they’d try to have our back.

* * *

 

Leonard had thought leaving was an awful idea from the start. Here, they had safety, and food, and comfort, and out there? Out there was a goddamn mess. If Joanna had been here, he would’ve refused point blank… but she wasn’t, and he’d promised himself that he would keep Jim alive. Apparently that would involve trekking his way across a country which was filled with predators that hungered for his flesh. Fantastic.

Currently, Jim was heading up the group as they prepared to get going, while the professed love of his life and Nyota were getting ready to create a distraction. Leonard had been the first to walk in on them at breakfast, and had nearly walked straight back out again due to the level of PDA he had witnessed before his morning coffee. Their relationship hadn’t exactly been a shocker, considering the googly-eyes Jim had made at Spock the second they arrived, but he hadn’t expected them to get Vulcan- _married_ already. He also hadn’t expected last night’s lube episode, for which there simply wasn’t enough brain bleach in the world. A rather smug Jim had attempted to give him details earlier on, but thankfully, his pointy-eared precious had distracted him before Leonard had needed to lobotomise himself.

‘Hey, Bones, you ready to go?’ Jim sounded much too eager for a man about to lead them out into hordes of the walking dead, but at least he was pretty consistent in mood. He’d been ridiculously happy since he’d met the hobgoblin, which made a nasty part of Leonard very bitter, no matter how hard he tried to repress it. Nodding mutely, he returned Jim’s sober gaze, offering Amanda a weak smile. ‘Great. Amanda?’

She was evidently nervous, but from nowhere, Jim conjured up a bright grin, placing a hand on her arm.

‘We’ll be alright,’ he said earnestly, squeezing before he let go. Amanda’s lips twitched upwards, her lovely face strained as she clutched her salvaged phaser in one white-knuckled hand. ‘If we got in unscathed, we can get out unscathed, and there are more of us now.’

Leonard stroked the frayed edges of Joanna’s bracelet as Jim checked the watch he’d found, lips moving silently before –

‘Three, two, one.’

There were two faint bangs, the sound of each blurring into one another – the Molotovs had worked. Jim sighed in relief, but Leonard felt little more positive than before, his body preparing him for the fight and flight ahead with a rush of adrenaline that made his heart pound.

‘Shouldn’t take them long to get down from the roof,’ Jim told them, his words needless, but better than the silence would be without them. ‘Hopefully those mangy bastards outside will be stupid enough to follow the noise.’

Sure enough, they could soon hear footsteps in the distance, and Amanda spoke, her voice low and urgent. ‘Jim, I need to know that if I get into trouble, you won’t let Spock get hurt trying to save me.’

‘Amanda, I-’

‘Promise me, Jim,’ she demanded, scraping an errant piece of hair back and pinning it into her bun. Spock and Nyota were fast approaching, jogging by the sound of it. ‘My son means more to me than life itself, and you two have a long one ahead of you.’

‘Amanda, I love him,’ Jim replied, his voice thick with contained emotion. ‘If it is in my power, I will _never_ let him get hurt.’

Leonard stood awkwardly at the periphery of their conversation, noticing that Amanda still looked worried.

‘And if that don’t work, ma’am, I’ll fix ‘em up,’ he said quietly. ‘Been fixin’ _him_ up since the shuttle to Starfleet.’

‘Oh really, puke boy?’

‘Yeah really, _Cupcake.’_

‘Boys, do stop squabbling,’ Amanda sighed, but her mood seemed to have lightened a little. He didn’t miss the way she smiled at Spock and Nyota as they arrived, nor the brief curl of Jim’s fingers against Spock’s.

‘From what we could see, the sound is drawing them,’ Nyota said breathlessly, taking her phaser from its holster. ‘Are we going?’

Jim nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. His own phaser was raised, a spare and a knife strapped to his belt. They each had extra weapons stashed on them, but Leonard was pretty envious of the bladed thing Spock called a lirpa.

‘It goes without saying that this is going to be dangerous. I need everyone to be as alert and cautious as possible, and if you get in trouble, say something. Spock’s memorised the possible routes out of here, and has an extra Molotov for later. Now, are we all ready?’

Never before on God’s green Earth had Leonard seen such reluctant nodding, but nodding it was. Jim turned, and Leonard held his breath as he slowly pulled across the bolts and cracked open the door to peer out. There was silence but for the sound of nervous, heavy breathing, and the thud of Leonard’s heart in his ears. He swallowed convulsively, nerves making him produce too much saliva rather than too little, and ignored the sickening roil of his stomach.

‘Clear,’ Jim whispered, pushing the door open inch by inch before leading the way out. They fell into line one after another – Jim, then Spock, then Amanda, and Leonard gestured for Nyota to leave before him. It meant that there was nobody to watch his back, but he’d rather he got eaten than anyone else. The street was eerily silent, but none of them dared speak as they crept along the side of the building, ear pricked for shuffling footsteps. A primal part of Leonard objected to the slow, careful pace, the threat of exposure in such a hostile environment raising the hairs on the back of his neck. The numerous routes Nyota and Amanda had devised involved taking the back streets as much as possible, but with the centre so large, they were forced into crawling round the edge of it. Miraculously, they cleared the corner unseen, but a few streets on, the unprecedented desertion ended. Jim stopped so suddenly at the entrance of an alleyway that he almost caused a pile-up.

‘What is it?’ Nyota whispered, craning her neck. Jim pointed, and when Leonard squinted, he could see a rather large group of Ferals up ahead, outside what seemed to be an office building. They were a mixed group in terms of appearance, but most were wearing professional clothing, however ragged it was. Leonard saw Jim and Spock exchange a look – probably talking in their heads, not that he could be sure – before turning to the rest of the group.

‘Not unless you _have_ to,’ Jim mouthed, waving his phaser. They had all agreed back in the conference centre to be sparse with their fire, not only because of the limited charge in their phasers, but also because the light and noise might attract unwanted attention. It seemed a good idea in theory, but with the terrible reality of their situation setting in, Leonard’s finger itched to rest on the trigger. Beyond the alleyway, there was a wide street lined with trees, the group of infected directly across from them in a second street perpendicular to the first, visible through a gap between one set of trees and the next. The group was wandering, but sluggish in a way that made Leonard wonder if the reanimated could be dormant. Jim gestured to the nearest tree set to their left, stooping slightly.

‘Wait here,’ he mouthed, exchanging a loaded glance with Spock, before scrambling behind the treeline. Leonard didn’t have time to hold his breath, because by the time he tried, Jim was already there. The mob hadn’t seen him, thank God, but the rest of them had to get across yet. One by one, heart in his throat, Leonard watched the others crawl unhindered to relative safety. When it was his turn, he glanced towards the milling reanimated across the way, still not believing their luck in that they hadn’t been noticed. He crouched, and was about to make a move when he heard shuffling footsteps behind him. Maybe he’d been distracted by the pressure of the situation, maybe the blood rushing in his ears had drowned the sound out, but the bloodied, glazed-eyed _thing_ behind him had got close enough to rake its splintered nails down his (thankfully clothed) arm, slack jaw snapping. He kicked it away from him, an involuntary panicked squeak leaving his mouth as he yanked his knife from his belt in lieu of his phaser, but Nyota got there first.

As he skittered backwards, struggling with his knife, she rounded the corner and plunged hers into its head, wrenching it out with a sickening spray of blood and brain and God knew what else. Leonard got to his feet just in time to see the horde of corpses in front of the office building slowly begin to turn, filmy eyes settling on the scattered group before the first few started lurching towards them.

‘Jim, should we-’

 _‘Run!’_ Jim hissed, and through unspoken assent, Spock led the way, grabbing his mother’s hand and dragging her alongside him as they bolted down the street in haphazard formation, Jim darting back and forth between the front and back of the group as if he couldn’t decide who needed protecting most. Before long, Spock veered off down a side road, leading them through a series of scuzzy back alleys and narrow cobbled streets, dispatching the few reanimated they met along the way using their short-range weapons. Just when Leonard thought his heart might beat itself into tachycardia, Jim held up a hand for them to stop. Heedless of the grime, he slumped against the wall of the alley they had found themselves in, watching Amanda do the same. For a second, he thought he might throw up, the combination of fear, adrenaline and exertion playing havoc with his insides.

‘What… have they gone?’ he panted.

Spock nodded, his head tilted, obviously using those pointy ears to listen out for the mob. Jim was standing ridiculously close to him, their arms brushing.

‘I cannot hear them. Doctor, it would be sensible for you to remain aware of your surroundings at all times, to avoid further incidents.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t looking behind me,’ Leonard said sarcastically. ‘I was too busy staring at the dozens of walking cadavers in front of me!’

‘Nevertheless, your inattention might have got us all killed.’

‘Spock!’ Jim exclaimed, but Leonard’s satisfaction at seeing Spock getting a telling-off was overridden by his anger.

‘And how do you know you wouldn’t have done the same thing? After all, you’re so fixated on Jim and your mom – would you even care if Nyota or I got killed?’

‘Leonard!’ Nyota frowned, smacking his arm.

Spock might not have shown it on his face, but Leonard could tell he was annoyed, his lips thinning to bare his teeth ever so slightly.

‘Your accusation is unsubstantiated,’ he said coldly, but he didn’t move away from Jim’s consoling hand, which stroked his arm. ‘Though perhaps I would be more inclined to help Nyota before yourself.’

‘Oh really? I-’

‘Boys!’ Amanda snapped. Leonard turned guiltily towards her, unable to prevent the flush that rose on his cheeks. ‘In an ideal world, you two would get along as well as the rest of us, but for now, I’ll settle for civility. You _will_ be nice to one another, because we have enough to deal with without your childish bickering.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Cowed, but not satisfied, Leonard glowered at Spock, who simply turned to Jim, his attention received with a bright smile. Jesus H., those two were in deep. He took in a calming breath, and asked the obvious.

‘Are we going now?’

Spock nodded stiffly, peering out of the alleyway.

‘Same rules with the weapons?’ Nyota asked briskly, wiping her knife off on a sweatshirt hanging out of the skip behind them.

‘As far as possible,’ Jim confirmed, sliding his hand down and off Spock’s arm. ‘If we get into serious trouble, fine.’

This time, Leonard took his place at the rear of the group with half of his attention behind him. Lord knew, Nyota might not always be quick enough. They made their slow, winding way through Des Moines, changing their route when needed, stopping for breaks as little as possible. He was begrudgingly impressed by Spock’s thorough knowledge of their surroundings, and pleasantly surprised by the numbers of infected they encountered. Whether it was due to Amanda and Nyota’s careful route planning, or just pure luck, he didn’t know. Fortunately, he didn’t really care either. Despite a few minor setbacks in the form of small, wandering groups, they were doing pretty well – at least until they were nearing the suburbs.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they left the city centre, and the adrenaline rush that had kept Leonard going through the long hours of the early morning was beginning to wear off. He wasn’t exactly relaxed – who the hell would be in a situation like this? – but he certainly wasn’t as hyped up as when they’d first left the conference centre. Spock and his freakishly accurate memory led them past hypermarkets and offices, schools and flitter stations, and they were currently within the boundaries of a park on the outskirts of Des Moines, the greenery thick enough that they could move through it without too much fear of detection. On their right, they could see through the trees to the flat, grassy area of the park, and Leonard’s heart clenched when he saw the empty children’s playground, a swing hanging from one chain rather than two, belongings abandoned in haste at the foot of the slide. Only, when he looked a little longer, he saw that it wasn’t entirely empty.

There had been a few times that morning when the group had seen a Feral or two crouched over a body, turning with gore-stained faces and hands, but unfortunately, it was nothing truly out of the ordinary. On their journey to Des Moines, all but Amanda had seen similar scenes, and they dealt with them accordingly. If he was being eaten alive, he’d consider a knife in the head a small mercy. So far – however horrifying – so familiar. Except that this wasn’t quite so familiar. A body on the floor? Check. An Infected ripping out someone’s intestines with its teeth? Check. But the body… the body was so small. Leonard stopped so suddenly that Nyota bumped into him, grumbling in annoyance, but he wasn’t listening. It was a child out there, on the grass. It was a little girl, her upturned face so pale, her white dress soaked through with her own blood. She had exactly the same colour and length of hair as Joanna, so similar to his little girl, and she was being torn apart in front of him. His vision flickered. Now this unknown child, all white and red on the grass; now Joanna, her eyes pained and pleading. Now Joanna.

Leonard screamed with rage.

The others must have reacted, but he didn’t hear them, didn’t see them, his vision tunnelling as he burst from the treeline and sprinted towards the girl and her attacker. It was a human man with long, greasy dark hair, and it looked up as he approached, beginning to stagger to its feet. Gore was dripping from its chin, and its eyes were blank, and Leonard _hated_ it. Before the thing could stand straight, he ripped his knife from his belt and plunged it into its head repeatedly, the ferocity of his attack pulling it up off the ground with every withdrawal of the blade. Warm, human hands clasped his shoulders, shook him, at first gently, then with great urgency. His hearing had faded with his singular concentration on putting the thing down, but when Jim forced him to turn, face red and eyes beseeching, it began to refocus.

‘Bones! Leo! Listen to me! We’ve gotta go; they’re coming!’

Like he’d just woken from a dream, Leonard’s shrunken world widened, and he saw what his violent outburst had caused. To his horror, beyond the group that was loosely gathered around him, expressions ranging from barely-perceptible alarm (Spock), to a strange mix of sympathy and fear (Amanda), was a scarcely quantifiable number of walking dead. They came from all directions, a motley crew of ragged corpses in various states of decay, but the great majority were advancing from their right.

‘We’re going to run,’ Jim said raggedly, and Leonard forced himself to his feet, trying to comply. He began to follow Amanda and Nyota, seeing Jim linger. ‘Spock.’

‘Yes.’

In one swift movement, Spock took the remaining Molotov from his belt and flung it towards the crowd before charging in the opposite direction, pushing Jim in front of him. The resulting bang was thunderous, and although he hoped that it had done some serious damage, Leonard didn’t dare look back. Though they ran desperately, it soon became clear that they weren’t going to be able to leave unhindered, the various hordes of undead beginning to converge and leaving only the narrowest of chokeholds up ahead. That gap was quickly closing, and Nyota said as much, her voice tight with fear.

‘I know,’ Jim panted, phaser in one hand, knife in the other. ‘Now’s the time for phasers, guys.’

With the advance on all sides ensuring that there was no hope of escape without a fight, Leonard began to fire into the oncoming crowd. The group ended up mashed together in a wonky circle, facing outwards, the flash of phaser fire almost blinding in its intensity. Leonard had Spock on one side and Amanda on the other, but his attention was fixed on the endless stream of bodies before him, trembling with dread. The numbers were falling as one Infected after another toppled, but they were also getting much closer, and he didn’t know how long they would manage to hold out like this.

‘Jim, they’re too close!’ he bit out, his vision spotted with flares of light.

‘Switch to your short-range weapons if you have to!’

No sooner had Jim spoken than the Ferals were upon them, and Leonard slammed his phaser into its holster before exchanging it for his knife, going for an Andorian woman with a torn antennae, then a slack-jawed teenager with dip-dyed hair. The way he fought wasn’t pretty; it was bloody, and desperate, and there was a hell of a lot of flailing involved, but it did the job. Spock, however, was something else. At Jim’s request, he drew his lirpa from the sheath on his back, and began his offensive. Leonard was a little preoccupied at the time, but he could see the blade flash out of the corner of his eye, Spock moving with deadly grace as he took out twice as many as the rest of them were managing. He was expressionless, and brutally efficient, and it freaked Leonard out enough that he almost got his eye gouged out for staring. Redoubling his concentration, he hacked through enough of the disgusting creatures that bodies were beginning to build a blockade in front of him, the muscles in his arms burning from the effort of keeping them up in a defensive stance.

‘I think we can get through this way!’ Nyota blurted, as he barely avoided evisceration. ‘I think I’ve cleared a way - there’s not so many of them coming from this direction.’

‘Do you guys remember the way?’

‘I do!’ Amanda cut in breathlessly. ‘I memorised as much as I could.’

‘Great, then you guys should all go,’ Jim told her. ‘I’ll catch up with you. Go.’

Leonard felt Amanda move beside him, and just as he was about to drive his knife into the skull of a Tellarite, someone dragged him backwards by his collar.

‘Bones. Go.’

He would have argued, but his and Nyota’s year of combat training was definitely superior to Amanda’s week’s worth – she needed all the help she could get. Besides, Spock and Jim seemed like they had control of the situation. With his weapon held aloft, Leonard took off after the ladies, noticing with relief that there were a lot fewer Ferals in his way, and certainly enough to do away with without much trouble.

‘Spock, what are you doing?’ he heard Jim snarl, just as he drew level with Nyota. ‘I’m fine, just… just go! What about your mom?’

‘I will not leave you when you are in danger.’

Damn babies. Despite the severity of the situation, Leonard rolled his eyes – then stabbed a wayward Infected in the temple.

‘Where’s Spock?’ Amanda asked, her voice wobbly with distress. She tried to turn, but Leonard urged her forward with one hand, the other wielding his knife.

‘He’s comin’.’

He risked a quick look back himself, nearly tripping over a Feral Nyota put down in the process. Spock and Jim were still in the thick of it, but they didn’t look overwhelmed.

‘I won’t leave him!’

‘He’ll catch up, I promise. Besides, your son’s a goddamn ninja,’ Leonard insisted, and after a moment’s thought, added breathlessly, ‘but don’t tell him I said that.’

‘Spock can definitely take care of himself – and Jim,’ Nyota added, slamming her boot heel into the head of an Infected she had tripped up. They were reaching the far end of the park now, and as they filtered through the wrought-iron gate at the end, Leonard saw two things that bolstered him; one: he finally recognised where they were, and two: Jim and Spock had finally escaped the mob, and were slowly gaining on them.

‘The guys are right behind us!’ he grinned, and Amanda let out a sob of relief as she set a punishing pace along the pavement towards the dual carriageway overpass, attacking the emerging reanimated with new fervour. As the groping hands of a frat boy wearing cargo pants forced him to turn, Leonard saw Jim and Spock vault the fence, and smiled despite his grisly task. Before long, they were within hearing range, bloody and grimy, but seemed otherwise well.

‘Took you long enough!’ he wheezed, grateful for the respite that Spock’s lirpa afforded them. Jim laughed and squeezed his arm.

‘Caught up pretty quick didn’t we?’

‘Oh, thank God!’ Amanda gasped, a bubble of giddy laughter leaving her lips between heavy, exerted breaths. ‘Never do anything like that to me again, do you hear me, Spock?’

‘I do,’ Spock replied, frustratingly composed. ‘However, I cannot promise you that I will not endeavour to keep you safe.’

Before Amanda could comment, Nyota groaned in discomfort, doubling over as they continued to run.

‘How much longer, guys? I’ve got a stitch.’

‘It’s not too far now,’ Jim promised, himself sounding a little breathless. ‘You see that mailbox up ahead? We turn left there, and the car should hopefully be just up the road.’

‘Hopefully?’ Nyota repeated, an edge of hysteria to her tone.

‘Well, yeah. As long as nobody’s broken into it.’

‘Oh! Great!’

‘Don’t waste your breath,’ Leonard growled, thighs burning and lungs aching as he forced himself forward, glancing back at the gathering Ferals with trepidation. ‘C’mon!’

The way ahead seemed blessedly clear, but they’d need as much time as they could get to get everyone in the car without the infected snapping at their heels. With a final burst of speed, Leonard swung round the corner, and saw a miracle. The black seven-seater remained partially concealed by the oak tree it was parked beneath, but seemed pretty much untouched.

‘It’s still here!’ he rasped, and someone (probably Jim) smacked him on the back in shared joy. ‘Jim, keys!’

When he reached back, they were slapped into his hand, and with shaking fingers, he managed to depress the button to unlock the doors. An Infected lurched out from beneath the tree as he approached, and he plunged his knife into his head, kicking it away from the car before he clambered into the driver’s seat. The others piled in as he repeatedly attempted to get the keys into the ignition, and with a small noise of victory, he managed to force them in with all the finesse of an infant doing a three-piece puzzle.

‘Everybody in?’

‘Yep!’ Nyota beamed, collapsing into the seat beside him. The others crawled in behind them, and Leonard thanked God that he and Jim had had the foresight to put the petrol cans into the back. With the herd of reanimated slowly approaching, he turned the key in the ignition and pulled out onto the road, speeding up until the herd was a mere speck in the rear-view mirror. For a few minutes, there was no conversation, as all of them - apart from Spock, the bastard - tried to get their breath back. Then, naturally, Jim broke the silence with a laugh.

‘Holy crap, guys, we’re alive!’

In the mirror, Leonard saw him drop his head onto Spock’s shoulder with a sigh of relief. Spock’s hand came up to cradle his head, his lips brushing Jim’s crown tenderly. Then, his eyes met Leonard’s in the mirror, and Leonard hastily looked away. Nothing to do with the challenge in that gaze, of course, just that he didn’t want to kill them all by ramming into a stop sign.

‘I’m certainly glad we all made it out in one piece,’ Amanda sighed, and her voice drew Leonard’s gaze once more. She was combing Spock’s hair back into place, and the parental gesture made Leonard’s chest squeeze painfully. This time, he looked away of his own volition, lips tugging down. Nyota patted his hand on the gearstick, her expression knowing, sympathetic. He tried to smile for her. He couldn’t. Oblivious to his returning melancholy, Jim went on -

‘I say we drive until the sun starts going down, and then we find a place to stay. Sleeping in the car’s okay when there’s two of you, but I think it’d be a bit awkward with this many of us.’

‘There is a suitable resting place approximately 97 miles away,’ Spock added. ‘I can direct you, Doctor, or I can take over, if you so wish.’

‘Nah, it’s fine, I’ll drive,’ Leonard said, settling back into his chair. Better Spock and Jim were cuddling in the back than having to endure Jim’s pouting at not being able to touch him. ‘And put your damn seatbelts on!’

The next few hours were spent mostly in companionable silence, broken only by Spock’s directional instructions, and Jim’s vain attempts to lighten the mood with ‘I Spy’. The others indulged him at first, but it was pretty hard to come up with an answer that wasn’t death-related, so that was quickly abandoned. When the silence remained unbroken for a suspiciously long time, Leonard glanced back at Jim, and found him sleeping. His head was pillowed on Spock’s shoulder, hair mussed and his mouth wide open. One of his hands was draped across his own lap, but the other was being cradled by one of Spock’s in a gentle, protective hold, and Spock’s own head was tilted back, eyes heavy-lidded in a universal indicator of contentment. Despite how much he cared for Jim, Leonard was somewhat jealous of the family they had found in one another, still mourning the loss of his own. He and Jocelyn had loved each other for a long time, and the fault for their marriage falling apart wasn’t solely on her. Joanna… Joanna was difficult to think about.

Nyota was also asleep, pretzled into the seat in a way that would probably give her trouble the next day, but he didn’t dare wake her. She’d got into a hell of a snit when he’d knocked on her door that morning, insisting that she could drag herself out of bed ‘thank you very much’. That might have been something to do with the fact that it had been 5am, but still, he wasn’t risking it. Amanda was staring out of the window, and had been doing so almost since they had left the church. Her face was troubled, which confused Leonard until he remembered that this was the first time she’d seen the outside world since before the Plague – and it sure wasn’t pretty. Despite the rural roads they were taking, there was carnage outside the safety of the car, the very same carnage that the rest of them had experienced, and become habituated to. He wanted to say something in comfort, but he didn’t want to alert everyone else to her evident upset. Instead, he stared at Spock in the mirror until he caught his eye, then gestured to Amanda, who thankfully didn’t notice. While Jim and Nyota slept, and Leonard drove on silently, the two of them engaged in quiet conversation, Amanda’s rapport with her son clear from the smile that lit up her face.

When the sky began to darken, Spock directed him towards a nearby town – barely a hamlet, by the looks of it. Nyota was already stirring, perhaps woken by the volume rising around her, but Jim slept on. As they pulled up beside what seemed to be an empty house, the garage door raised and the front door only pulled to, Spock gently shook him awake. Sleepy blue eyes barely drifted open, drooped shut again, then opened fully to meet Spock’s. Leonard shifted uncomfortably as Jim’s lips formed a tender smile, fingers skimming over the back of Spock’s hand.

‘We found somewhere?’ Jim asked, gaze never moving from Spock.

‘Think so. Look, guys…’ Leonard looked down at his fidgeting hands, feeling the weight of expectation from the others. He’d been trying not to think about it on the way, but he knew he’d fucked up in Des Moines. He prioritised Jim’s life over his own, and yet he’d compromised his safety because of a momentary delusion. That was unacceptable. ‘Before we go in, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. It was my fault that so many of them came after us. I didn’t- I wasn’t-’

A hand fell on his shoulder.

‘Bones,’ Jim said softly, punctuating the word with a slight squeeze. ‘It’s alright. We’ve all messed up one way or another, and you’ve got more reason to than most. And hey - we’re all still alive, aren’t we?’

Jim’s hand squeezed once more, then slid from his shoulder. Leonard nodded, head bowed to hide his flush of shame.

‘We don’t blame you, Leonard,’ Nyota added, the secondary reassurance helping to lighten the burden of his guilt, but not removing it.

Awkward silence pervaded as Leonard refused to look any of them in the eye, before Jim said, ‘Right. Why don’t we see if this place is empty? Can you back the car into the garage while we do a sweep, Bones?’

‘Sure. Be careful.’

‘Yeah, duh. That would be a crappy death after the day we’ve had.’

Leonard waited for them all to enter the house before he did as Jim had asked, keeping a careful eye out for any Ferals as he backed up the car. The street outside the garage was empty as far as he could see, the houses lining the road old-fashioned and sprawling, seeming mostly undisturbed. Either their residents had left in a more orderly manner than the people who owned this house, or there were others still living on this street. If that were the case, he hoped to God that none of them tried anything. Leaning into the back to grab his rucksack, he kept his eye half on the road as he locked the car door and quickly swept the garage, finding nothing. He tried not to look at the personal touches to the place, knowing that taking an interest would only lead to more specific nightmares. Here they were, breaking into a home that had probably belonged to a family, abandoned in the hope of survival that almost definitely turned out to be futile. Leonard didn’t know why he and others had survived when so many hadn’t, but he tried not to dwell on it.

‘Hey.’

Startled, Leonard tugged his phaser from his belt as he turned, wilting in relief when he saw that it was only Jim, still looking pretty ruffled from his nap in the car.

‘House is clean. You coming in?’

Leonard nodded, throwing him the keys before locking the garage door.

‘Any food in there? We’re better usin’ up their stuff rather than ours.’

‘There’s actually a replicator,’ Jim grinned, leading him in, and bolting the door behind them. Leonard ignored the pictures on the hallway wall as they moved straight through to the kitchen, where everyone else had already got their dinner. As he slung his pack down by the others in the corner, Jim pointed to a plate of spaghetti bolognese on the table. ‘I already got yours for you, see.’

‘Thanks, kid,’ Leonard grunted, dropping into the chair beside Amanda. Jim, for once, had chosen something relatively healthy, attacking his chicken while his vegetables languished on my plate. ‘You’d better eat those.’

‘Yes, mother,’ Jim mocked, spearing a piece of broccoli for show, before shoving it in his mouth.

‘Jim, do you even chew your food?’ Nyota asked, nose wrinkling.

Leonard’s stomach dropped, and he exchanged a panicked look with Spock as Jim blushed brightly, eyes dropping to his plate. He knew exactly why Jim ate as he did, but that didn’t mean everyone else understood. Nyota and Amanda seemed bewildered by Jim’s sudden timidity, but Spock made a minute gesture that put an end to any thoughts of questioning him about it.

‘You know what I don’t get?’ Leonard blurted, attempting to spare them all another awkward silence. ‘Why there were so… well, not so _few,_ but why there were few- _er_ of the damn things than we expected.’

Spock handed Jim a bread roll before he answered, the acceptance of which was enforced by a gentle, pointed look, and – Leonard suspected – a quick chat through the bond.

‘I suspect that as the majority of uninfected individuals will have fled city centres, it logically follows that those who are infected will pursue them.’

‘So there will be more in rural areas,’ Amanda sighed, poking at her pasta.

‘Precisely. We must be vigilant, in order to evade attack.’

‘Great. Nothing like feeling unsafe,’ Leonard muttered, grateful for Nyota’s distraction in the form of questioning Amanda and Spock about Vulcan. Maybe the spaghetti still felt like lead in his stomach, but he didn’t feel like it was going to come straight back up anymore.

After dinner, they separated for the sake of their own sanity, moving off into different rooms to try and entertain themselves. Leonard had been getting twitchy with the lack of alone time, and he gratefully left Amanda (writing), Nyota (reading), and the two lovebirds (whatever the hell they were doing), to go upstairs. First, he raided the bathroom cabinets for medical supplies, but came up with little more than store-bought painkillers and bad-quality bandages. After that, he amused himself by sketching out a human skeleton as accurately as he could from memory, which triggered a sudden desire to interrogate Spock about Vulcan anatomy. After all, xenobiology classes at the Academy were nothing compared to the years of hospital experience and med school where he’d only really learnt about Terrans. He also decided to replicate himself some crappy bourbon, but on the way, he heard a raised voice coming from the conservatory. Leonard Horatio McCoy rarely resorted to eavesdropping, but in the event that his best friend needed backing up…

With a glass of watery bourbon in hand, Leonard leant against the kitchen counter next to the conservatory door, figuring that the booze would allow him to feign innocence in the event that he was seen.

‘Spock, that’s not the issue!’ he heard Jim say hoarsely, clearly upset. If the hobgoblin made him cry, Leonard would kick his ass. ‘Why didn’t you leave in the park when I asked you to? You could have died!’

‘I did not die. You know I could not have left you, not in such a dangerous situation.’

‘For God’s sake, Spock,’ Jim sniffled, definitely crying now. ‘I’m trying to keep you safe!’

Frowning, Leonard leant further round the corner, and saw the two of them in an embrace, one of Spock’s hands carding through Jim’s hair as the other held him tight around the waist. Jim was shaking, and although it was nothing he hadn’t seen before (because Jim was far more prone to tears than most people had seen evidence of), he was pissed off that it was because of Spock. Spock was redeeming himself, however, whispering something that Leonard strained his ears towards, but still couldn’t hear.

‘I am also trying to keep you safe, ashayam,’ Spock murmured, and although Leonard didn’t understand the last word, he was pretty sure it was something mushy as hell. ‘I am sorry that my behaviour frightened you, but I could no more leave you in danger than I could destroy the bond.’

A string of what must have been Vulcan followed, and when Jim raised his head from the crook of Spock’s shoulder, Leonard was pleased to see that he had stopped crying. He was less pleased to see the rather passionate kiss that followed Spock’s words, and throwing back the remainder of the bourbon, he decided to leave. After all, he was a doctor, not a voyeur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, writing about exercise is almost a workout in itself. It's enough to put me off for life! Jim and the gang are safe for now, thank God. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - please leave a comment if you did! - and you can always find me on my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> PS: On Monday, I start my first full-time job. It means that I'll have significantly less time for writing, and although I'll try to keep to the schedule I've set, that might not always be feasible. I'll definitely try my best though, and I would never, ever abandon this story, so don't worry :) Hopefully have the next up in two weeks!


	13. In Wildest Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited to hear what you guys think of this chapter! I've been planning this almost from the very start, and I've left clues on the way that I know quite a few of you have picked up on - well done if you have! I have to warn for explicit sexual content once more, and Ivan, there's a little bit of gore between 'The road wasn’t entirely empty' and 'There were some things you never got used to.' <3

Stardate 2261.75. 1430 hours. KL interviewing JK.

For once, Jim is there before me when I get to the interview room. Only this time, he isn’t alone. He is slumped in the chair in a way that must be uncomfortable for his spine, a toddler sprawled across his lap with his face in Jim’s chest, deeply asleep by the look of it. Immediately, I realise that this is missing piece of the puzzle: the child I saw Spock with in the corridor, the glitter on his sleeve. From what I can see of him, the boy doesn’t look particularly like either them, his hair golden-brown and wavy, tumbling past his chin. His skin is perhaps a shade darker than Jim’s, whose hand rests protectively on his back. I know I’m staring, eager to start questioning Jim, but it turns out I don’t even need to ask.

JK: His name’s Theo - Theodore. He’s coming up to three. He’s ours, and so is his big sister. Any questions?

Loads. He doesn’t look like either of you.

_[Jim frowns, hand moving rhythmically up and down the toddler’s back.]_

JK: Biology has nothing to do with it really. They’re still ours.

Who are their biological parents then?

JK: Funny you should ask that, because Spock has just found them on the system. _[He stills his hand as Theo stirs, tiny hand crumpling Jim’s shirt as his fingers flex. When he settles, Jim begins the gentle movement once more.]_ We never saw their dad, but we knew their mom’s face, and we had a little information about her from her belongings. Her name was Michal. She was an Israeli midwife who moved to Wyoming with her husband. He – Seth – was from North Dakota originally.

Do you talk to the kids about them?

JK: I will pretty soon. Like I said, we’ve only recently managed to find out anything about them, and they never ask. We’re certainly the only parents Theo has ever known. But they deserve to know as much about their biological parents as we can give them.

_[The child stirs once more, evidently beginning to wake. Jim brushes his lips against the crown of Theo’s head as he wriggles, whining in displeasure,]_

JK: He definitely does _not_ like waking up. _[His voice softens, and rises in pitch.]_ Do you, buddy?

_[I deliberately begin to speak more quietly.]_

How old were they when you took them in? And how did you end up taking them in in the first place?

JK: They were two, and- well, Theo was a newborn. We gave him his name, because Bones reckoned that he was only a few days old when we first started looking after them. Like I said, we never met their biological father, so I can only assume that he died. Their mom died too, but we met her when she was still alive. She was turning, and she had the kids with her, and I wasn’t going to leave them there.

_[Theo shifts, and I see him blink awake, his head tipping up so he could look at his father. I am somewhat surprised to see that his eyes are blue, though a darker blue than Jim’s.]_

JK: Hey, baby, you okay? You still sleepy? _[The child nods, looking warily at me as Jim shifts him around on his lap, running his hand over tousled hair.]_ Theo, this is Kaitlyn. You gonna say hi?

_[Theo waves clumsily at me before burying his face in his dad’s chest, failing to hide a bashful smile.]_

Hello, Theo.

JK: And this is our louder one. Mind you, they’ve had to be quiet over the last few years, haven’t they? _[Jim’s face darkens for a moment, his arm tightening around his son.]_ But you’re safe now, both of you. You’re safe.

I’m sorry, Jim.

_[Jim shakes his head. Theo isn’t moving, and I can hear his breath whistling from his nose. If he isn’t asleep again, he’s certainly close.]_

JK: It’s not your fault. We’ve tried to protect them as much as we could, but they’ve still seen a lot more than I wanted them to.

I can imagine. But it’s like you said – things are better now, for Theo and your daughter. What’s her name?

JK: Liora.

That’s a pretty name.

JK: It is. Her mother gave it to her. _[Jim smiles fondly, brushing Theo’s hair from his forehead.]_ It means ‘my light’.

 

* * *

 

Before the plague that had decimated the great majority of the Terran population, Jim could have moved between Des Moines and San Francisco in just a few hours. Jim missed those older, safer days with a passion, having taken for granted the ability to go outside without a weapon, and to go to sleep without triple-checking the locks on every window and door. A week and a half into their long, winding journey, they were still only in Wyoming, forced to circumvent cities and large towns, but also having to move slowly through rural areas in order to avoid the undead population as it spread. They spent their days crawling through the back end of nowhere, siphoning petrol from cars on the rare occasion they could find one. Thankfully, Jim expected that they had enough now to last them through to Headquarters, but what if the place was empty, or run over with Ferals? What if that final shred of hope was lost? He didn’t often wallow in pessimism, but he thought he could be forgiven for it in this situation.

At least he had Spock, and the others. They kept him going, kept him laughing even when he didn’t want to, forcing a smile onto his face without his permission. Bones’ grumbling, Nyota’s teasing, Amanda’s giggle fits – they all pulled him back from the edge of that void, the one named Tarsus, which called to him in his blackest moments. And Spock. His Spock, with eyes so gentle for him, hands so gentle _on_ him that Jim felt like he was allowed to be fragile, if only in private. When he woke in the night, shivering, with a cry dying in his throat, Spock would wrap him in strong arms, soothing him without a word of complaint for lost sleep. Jim had never dared hope for a love like this, so intense and absolute. He’d let Spock into his heart - and his head - with barely a second thought, and as sappy as it sounded, that proved to Jim that they were meant to be. Their bond was a wonder, bathing his mind in warmth and light, and for pretty much the first time in his life, Jim felt safe.

_I am glad, t’hy’la. You deserve to feel safe._

The tenderness in Spock’s inner voice sent affection bubbling up in Jim until he could hardly bear not to express it. He flushed, tightening his hands on the wheel as he glanced surreptitiously at Spock, who was sitting serenely in the passenger seat.

_I love you, you know that? And I really kind of want you right now._

A pulse of mutual arousal through the bond made his cock twitch and his breath stutter. With the others in the back – well, Amanda was all he cared about in this particular case – he tried to put a dampener on things.

 _You do tell me multiple times a day. I love you also, as you well know,_ Spock murmured. His voice was as smooth as syrup, which really didn’t help things. _Perhaps we will get an opportunity to make love tonight, but that depends entirely on our accommodation._

That was true. They’d long since figured out that beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Jim wasn’t going to jeopardise the safety of the group to fuck his husband. However much he _wanted_ to fuck his husband.

 _God, the things I want to do to you,_ he breathed, his hands itching to touch Spock.

‘You two are being disgusting, I can sense it,’ Bones grumped from behind them. ‘Wanna stop that before I projectile vomit over you?’

‘That would be a rather extreme reaction, Doctor, particularly considering the fact that neither Jim nor I have expressed our affection in front of you.’

‘Yeah, Bones, it could be a whole lot worse,’ Jim smirked, making sure Amanda wasn’t looking before he snatched up Spock’s hand and licked a stripe up one finger. Spock flushed and pulled his hand away, Nyota’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and hilariously, Bones went an interesting purplish colour that Jim had never seen before.

‘Jesus fucking Christ.’

‘Language,’ Amanda tutted, her face buried in a linguistics book she’d brought from the conference centre.

‘Yeah, Bones, _language.’_

‘James.’

‘Sorry, Amanda.’

‘Sorry ma’am.’

Despite his telling-off, like a naughty sibling, Jim grinned at Bones in the mirror from the relative safety of the driver’s seat, knowing that retribution would have to be delayed. That elicited a scowl of displeasure, and Jim knew there would be some bullshit hypo later with his name on it.

 _Ashal-veh, it would be best not to provoke Doctor McCoy,_ Spock chastised, his cheekbones still faintly green. _And despite my evident enjoyment of your oral ministrations, I think it would be best not to engage in sexual activity whilst in a car with my mother._

_Yes, darling. But you just wait ‘til later._

Spock shivered infinitesimally, then spoke, ‘The next town we will come across is the last appropriate resting place in nearly 40 miles. I believe it would be prudent to rest here for the night, and begin again tomorrow.’

‘The sun’s nowhere near going down though,’ Nyota interjected, eager as the rest of them to return to the Academy.

‘It’s better we have a lot of time than having to flit about in the dark,’ Jim said firmly. ‘Besides, once we’re settled, some of us can go out on a supply run. You said you wanted more med stuff, didn’t you, Bones?’

‘Yeah. I started with a pitiful supply in the first place, and it’s dwindling pretty fast, mostly because of numb-nuts here, and his talent for getting into trouble.’

‘Hey! I don’t _need_ all the stuff you give me – you’re just a sadist who likes stabbing me in the neck.’

‘Oh sure, I should let all those cuts get infected so your gangrenous limbs can fall off one by one. Spock can carry you around under his arm.’

‘Let’s just get settled,’ Amanda interrupted, silencing the beginning of Jim’s outraged retort. ‘Once we have a safe place to stay, we can figure out who’s going where.’

Jim nodded, speeding up as the car lurched onto an open stretch of road.

_Thanks for defending me there. Please note the sarcasm._

_T’hy’la,_ Spock sighed, soothing him with a gentle wave of affection. _Whilst I disagree with Doctor McCoy’s intractable manner, you know my opinion regarding any situation that puts you in danger._

 _Yes, I do,_ Jim sulked, trying not to pout in front of the others. _I’m not a baby, you know._

_I am well aware of that, k’diwa. But you are infinitely precious to me, and I do not wish to see harm come to you._

Jim’s stomach flipped pleasantly, a warmth in his belly that spoke more of giddy affection than of arousal.

 _Stop doing that!_ he complained weakly, eyes on the road as they came to a junction and turned left, houses visible in the distance.

_Doing what, my own?_

_Distracting me with… with sappy stuff!_

He felt a wisp of Spock’s amusement through the bond before it was concealed beneath the deeper sensation of love, fighting the urge to reach across and kiss him silly.

 _Would you like me to stop?_ Spock asked innocently.

 _… No._ Jim conceded, stopping the car by the house nearest to the main road. _You know I don’t. Still mad at you for not defending me._

Spock let out a slightly heavier breath than usual – his version of a sigh. Before anyone else could speak, he turned to Bones.

‘Doctor, I would ask that you do not call my bondmate ‘numb-nuts.’

Bones snorted.

‘Well, if the cap fits...’

Jim narrowed his eyes, ready with a comeback that really wasn’t appropriate to utter in front of Amanda. Instead of replying, he fixed Bones with a furious glare, then addressed the whole group.

‘We all know the rules by now. Start with the first house on the left, check for signs of life, and/or ‘undeath’. Spock and I go upstairs, the rest of you downstairs. You get into trouble, you shout. Alright?’

There was a general murmur of assent, and Jim got out of the car first, ready to lead them as he always did. As the others began readying their weapons, he leant over to Bones.

‘Spock can vouch for how _not-numb_ my nuts are,’ he whispered, ‘Ask him, go on. He has his hands on them most nights.’

‘Who would willingly go near your balls?’ Bones said disgustedly, grumbling under his breath as Jim gave him his most angelic smile and moved towards Spock, feeling a ripple of amusement through the bond.

_Glad you liked that. Got my back?_

_Always, Jim._

The house was pretty non-descript, the doors and windows shut, which usually meant that either there was a frightened, trigger-happy family inside, or a group of starving reanimated. To be honest, Jim preferred the latter. He considered them easier to deal with. The road wasn’t entirely empty; about 50 yards away, there was a mushed-up mess of blood, bone, and tattered clothing, something that must once have been a person. Jim pressed his thumb into the centre of his hand and squeezed hard in an attempt to quell his gag reflex – it worked, barely. There were some things you never got used to.

He was the first to try the door, swearing under his breath when he found that it was locked. There was a keypad beside it, thankfully needing a numerical code rather than a fingerprint or retinal scan. Jim had the correct code inputted within a few minutes, Bones complaining quietly behind him all the while. They all fell silent, however, when the door slid open, the discipline they had long since learned to be necessary taking over. There was no visible movement as he and Spock crept up the stairs, phasers held aloft. The first four bedrooms were clear, as were the bathrooms, but just before he was about to open the final door, Spock stilled beside him.

_I believe there is an Infected in this room._

Jim nodded, flicking his tongue across his lower lip nervously.

_Alright. On three? One, two, three!_

He didn’t kick the door down – this was no action movie, and they would probably need the privacy later – but he did slam his hand down on the keypad, and when it opened, Spock turned out to be right. At the sound of their entrance, two rotting, walking corpses that had once been teenage boys came stumbling across the room, one still in blood-spattered pyjamas. Without discussion, they shot one each, watching as the two fell in a graceless heap on the carpet.

‘If there’s two, there might be more,’ Jim muttered. Spock nodded sharply, his eyes narrowing.

‘Come,’ he said, already striding out of the door. ‘There is a struggle downstairs.’

Heart in his mouth, Jim ran after him, taking the stairs three at a time, but he was still no match for Spock’s long legs. He hurtled into the living room a few seconds after him, only to find the other three panting amongst a pile of five or six Ferals.

‘Is anyone hurt?’ he asked roughly, sagging in relief when each shook their head. ‘Jesus. Six of them. There’s two upstairs as well – we’ll have to drag them out back.’

‘Nyota and I can do that,’ Amanda insisted, tucking her phaser back into her belt. ‘It shouldn’t take long, and it means that you three can go and get what you need before it gets too dark.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind all three of us going?’

‘We’ll be fine,’ Nyota said, stepping over a woman in a cocktail dress. Apparently, there had been a dinner party going on. ‘The earlier you get back, the better.’

‘Right then,’ Jim breathed. ‘Bones, you coming?’

‘If I have to.’

‘It would be a useless endeavour to go without you,’ Spock reminded him, as Jim led them from the room.

‘Be careful!’ Amanda warned, her and Nyota lifting the first corpse between them. ‘I want you back whole, all of you.’

‘We will!’ Jim called, dragging the car keys out of his pocket. ‘Spock, did you see anywhere on the map we could go?’

‘There is a pharmacy within eight miles. I will drive.’

‘I call shotgun,’ Jim rushed out, smirking at a disgruntled Bones.

‘As if I’d want to sit there while you grope him from behind.’

‘Well, I can just grope him sideways now,’ Jim laughed, checking the street for movement before they piled into the car. He watched continuously as they drove through streets full of silent houses, thankful that this particular car’s engine wasn’t very loud. When they pulled up in front of the large pharmacy, they found the front window smashed, which wasn’t a good sign. Jim could see no one around, living or dead, but he was on high alert nonetheless as they slipped out of the car, armed and ready. They bypassed the door, stepping carefully through the window frame, and Jim sighed when he saw the ravaged shelves.

‘Damn. Think we’ll find anything of use?’

Bones, for once, seemed optimistic.

‘Bet nobody checked the storeroom,’ he declared, veering off towards a side door, which had another keypad beside it. ‘Can one of you..?’

Jim obliged him, finding the code a little harder to get to than the one on the house – for obvious reasons – but managed it eventually. The storeroom door clicked open, yielding a cornucopia of supplies.

‘I told you!’ Bones crowed, and Jim was about to follow him inside when a faint noise stopped him in his tracks. It almost sounded like…

_I can also hear an infant, t’hy’la._

Alarm began to wind its way through Jim’s chest, and he exchanged a frantic look with Spock before turning back to Bones, who was shovelling various pill bottles into his bag with a manic kind of glee.

‘Bones, are you alright here for a while? We think we heard something.’

‘Yeah, just call if there’s trouble.’

As soon as he had backed out of the storeroom, Jim was running, Spock close behind. His windpipe felt like it was fused shut, his heart pounding as they followed the cries, which gained clarity as they passed through into a rabbit warren of offices. What if the baby had turned? He couldn’t kill it – he knew he couldn’t, but neither could Bones, and he didn’t want to leave it to poor Spock. He couldn’t bear to have to put down another child. At the end of the corridor of offices, Jim flung open the door, finding himself in what must have been a large delivery area, closed off with corrugated iron shutters at the end. On the floor was a swaddled baby, screaming in distress, but it wasn’t alone. Beside the baby sat a toddler, a little girl with messy blonde hair and sad green eyes, and beyond her was a woman, lying prone. Blood was puddling around her, spreading from a deep wound in her neck until it threatened to reach the children.

‘Oh my God.’

Jim ran over and swept the wailing baby into his arms, pulling the little girl unsteadily to her feet by her hand. She was perhaps two, and despite the tantrums that age promised, there was no resistance whatsoever, passive or active.

_Can you grab the little girl for me, Spock?_

_Of course._

‘Bones!’ Jim yelled, hoping that his voice would carry. He stepped towards the woman, shushing the baby as he went, noting with concern how tiny and fragile it was. It looked almost like a newborn, eyelids squeezed shut and face red and blotchy with the force of its cries. The woman was still conscious, her light brown hair darkened in patches as blood matted it, her eyes wide and fearful.

‘It’s okay,’ Jim soothed, kneeling beside her. ‘We’re not going to hurt them, I promise. Have you- have you been bitten?’

She nodded jerkily, and Jim wondered for a moment why she didn’t speak, until he got a good look at the depth of the wound in her neck, and marvelled that she was still breathing. One trembling hand reached up and caressed the head of the screaming child, before dropping, leaden, back to the concrete floor. Pleading eyes met Jim’s as he rocked the babe, unable to stop the crying.

_Spock…_

_Yes, Jim. They will come with us._

‘It’s okay,’ he repeated, holding the little one close. ‘We’ll take them, I promise. They’ll be looked after.’

Her lips twitched, perhaps in an attempt to smile, and her eyes reached past Jim. He turned to see Spock with the little girl settled on his hip, her face buried in his neck.

‘Jim?’ Bones shouted, from somewhere inside.

‘We are in here, Doctor.’

It was more likely that Bones could hear the racket that the child was making than his voice, but either way, he burst in with wild eyes, his weapon raised.

‘Holy Hannah.’

He swept past Jim towards the woman, and Jim’s heart clenched when he saw that she had gone still, looking anything but peaceful. Bones knelt, pressing two fingers to her neck for a long moment, the room silent but for the babe.

‘She’s dead, Jim,’ he said mournfully.

She had passed while his back was turned. Nauseous, Jim held the baby closer, its sharp cries unpleasant, but bearable.

‘We’re taking them,’ he rasped.

‘What makes you think you can look after two fucking kids?’

Absurdly, Jim’s first reaction was to want to tell Bones not to swear in front of the children. The second, more appropriately, was outrage.

‘I think you’ve forgotten that I’ve done this before,’ he said coldly, feeling Spock’s anger swell within the bond beside his own. ‘How would you have felt if-’

Jim bit down on his tongue until he tasted iron, but the damage was done. The unspoken words hung in the air between them, and he watched Bones’ face drain of colour, eyes hollow with pain and guilt and rage all at once. With mixed emotions himself, he didn’t feel like examining Bones’ mercurial mood, choosing instead to walk to the door.

‘Can you take care of her? We’ll be outside.’

‘Sure. Jim? Jim, I-I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah,’ Jim mumbled, letting Spock go before him. ‘Me too.’

Once outside he concentrated on the shrieking baby, rocking it in his arms in a smooth, well-practiced motion, muscle memory leading the way.

‘Shh, shh, shh,’ he crooned, smoothing down a tuft of hair that peeked out from beneath the blanket. Slowly, the cries died down, first into grizzling, then completely. Jim looked up at Spock as he swayed, comforted by his warm gaze, and the soft emotion flowing through the bond. The little girl had emerged from Spock’s shoulder, her expression frighteningly blank as she watched Jim rock the baby.

 _Is she alright, do you think?_ he asked, worried about her lack of reaction.

 _Her surface emotions are dominated by shock,_ Spock replied, hitching her higher on his hip. _Beneath there is turmoil. I suspect that she will begin to react more typically when the shock dissipates._

Jim nodded, exhaling slowly as the enormity of the responsibility they had taken on began to make itself known.

‘Want to swap?’

He took the little girl onto his own hip before Spock could reply, handing over the sleeping baby. Spock fumbled a little with the swaddled bundle, panic flashing between them as he awkwardly found a stable position for the child. Amused, Jim turned his attention to the toddler, smiling wide as large green eyes met his.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he cooed. ‘What’s your name?’

She blinked, thumb sneaking into her mouth, and remained unresponsive.

‘What about your little- hey, Spock? Boy or girl?’

After the awkward removal of layers of fabric, Spock seemed stumped by the nappy. Snorting, Jim reached over and opened one of the tabs to peek in.

‘Little boy,’ he announced, stroking the back of his finger down the baby’s soft cheek as he squirmed. He snapped the tab back into place and threw one fold of the blanket back over him. ‘Wrap him up so he doesn’t get cold, will you?’

‘Does your little brother have a name?’ he asked the girl, who shook her head minutely. ‘Oh, we’re getting somewhere. It’s a pity you don’t want to tell me yours, eh?’

Jim winced as he heard the faint phaser shot, gathering the girl closer. Spock finished swaddling the baby and settled him against his forearm, cocking his head.

 _Doctor McCoy is returning,_ he said, pressing the pads of two fingers against the little one’s cheek. _Jim, as inappropriate as his earlier comments were, I do not believe that he meant them sincerely._

 _I know,_ Jim sighed, bouncing the silent girl on his hip. _Neither did I. It was said in the heat of the moment._

Just then, Bones stepped through the door, opening it just enough that there was no chance of the children seeing in. He held a large baby bag, the straps gathered in his fist so that it wouldn’t drag along the floor. He seemed to be finding it difficult to look Jim in the eye, which made Jim’s stomach drop.

‘Liora?’ Bones blurted, and the little girl shifted in Jim’s arms, turning towards him. ‘There, see? Her name’s Liora. I found some of her things in this bag.’

‘Pretty name,’ Jim murmured, smiling at her. ‘Hello, Liora.’

She blinked up at him, a hand crinkling the fabric of his shirt, and with a sudden rush of affection, he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead.

‘What about her brother? She says he doesn’t have a name yet.’

‘Seems she’s right,’ Bones shrugged, pulling his tricorder out of nowhere and running it over each of the children. ‘Listen, Jim, I’m real sorry about what I said, I-I panicked after what happened to… to-’

‘I know,’ Jim interrupted, hearing him struggling over Joanna’s name, ‘and I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have even gone near the subject, not after what I did.’

‘You did what you had to. Let’s just put it behind us, alright? These two check out okay, but I’ll examine them properly once we’re back at the house.’

Jim nodded sharply, shifting Liora onto his other hip so that his right hand was free to hold his phaser.

_You alright with… with the baby?_

_Yes, ashayam,_ Spock replied, the child thankfully still sleeping as he tucked him more securely into the crook of his arm. ‘Perhaps you will lead the way, Doctor.’

‘Yeah, sure. I’ll drive if you hold them. You aware you’ve just become parents in an apocalypse?’

Jim’s answering laugh was tinged with hysteria.

‘Oh, yeah. Pretty well aware of that. C’mon, let’s go.’

They picked their way through to the shop front with double the caution of before, picking up anything they thought the children might need along the way. The store didn’t hold much of the basics – nappies and suchlike – but it did stock barrier cream and infant-friendly medicine, which Bones shovelled into the bag.

‘What’s actually in there, Bones?’ Jim asked, not taking his eyes from the as yet empty street.

‘It’s a mix really. There’s enough to keep the baby going for a few days, plus the stuff from the house, but we’ll have to run out for milk pretty soon.’

‘Okay. Let’s get them back to the house - I don’t like them being out in the open. We can go tomorrow for the necessities.’

Bones led the way out to the car, and waited until Jim and Spock got in the back with the children before taking the driver’s seat. Jim’s first thought was to put Liora beside him, but she was much too small to sit without a car seat, so he settled her on his lap instead. He scooted over to the middle seat as Spock got in on the left, ready to be an extra support for the baby if needed.

‘Drive carefully, Bones.’

‘No, I’m gonna go for the land speed record. What’re you gonna call him?’

Jim shrugged, looking to Spock as the car started.

_Any ideas, love?_

_I am not entirely accustomed to human names. Perhaps you might have some suggestions?_

Jim tightened his arm around Liora as he leant into his bondmate, peering at the baby. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the tiny, delicate features softened in sleep, the little button nose and pink, parted lips, and he stroked down the tuft of hair that was once again becoming unruly.

‘God, he’s adorable, isn’t he?’

_He is, t’hy’la. As is Liora._

‘Can’t forget you, sweetheart, can we?’ Jim smiled, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas about names for your brother?’

She stared up at him with those wide eyes, uncomprehending, and Jim laughed, kissing her again.

‘Guess not. Hmm.’ Dozens of names reeled through Jim’s head, but none seemed right. Spock didn’t react particularly positively to any of them either, until Jim landed on Theo. It was a mere flicker of intrigue, but it was enough.

_Theo?_

_It has a pleasing cadence,_ Spock admitted, shifting the baby in his arms. There was a soft burbling noise, and little fingers flexed as he was moved, the blanket coming dislodged. Jim tucked it back in, considering how well the name fit.

‘Theo… yeah, he’s definitely a Theo.’

‘Theo- _dore,’_ Bones drawled, slowing the car to a crawl as they turned a corner. ‘He has to have a Sunday name.’

‘Fine by me,’ Jim replied, combing his fingers absently through Liora’s hair. ‘Do you like that name for your brother, sweetie?’

She didn’t reply, but patted the blanket where Theo’s feet were in the clumsy, heavy-handed way that toddlers do. It was a sign of approval as good as any, Jim thought.

_Spock, we’ve just named a baby._

_I am aware. I must admit to a certain degree of shock, despite my growing fondness for the children._

_Yeah, me too. It’s not how I imagined the day ending, but they need us. It’ll be okay._

‘So which one of you’s the mommy?’ Bones sniggered, earning a kick to the back of his seat.

‘Juvenile humour, Doctor,’ Spock deadpanned, rocking Theo as he twitched in his sleep.

‘Yeah, Bones, don’t be so _juvenile._ Hey, what’s the Vulcan equivalent of ‘daddy’?’

‘There is no equivalent,’ Spock murmured. ‘Vulcans do not use diminutives. The Vulcan word for father is ‘sa-mekh’.’

‘Sa-mekh,’ Jim repeated, testing it on his tongue. ‘I like it. I’ll be daddy, and you can be sa-mekh- oh. What’s the matter, honey?’

Liora was wriggling on his lap, her face scrunched up.

‘I believe that she needs to urinate,’ Spock explained.

‘Oh, sh- _sugar._ Pretty sure she’s not wearing a diaper. Bones?’

‘We’re just round the corner, hold on.’

As soon as the car stopped, Jim checked that the coast was clear before scrambling out with Liora. Predictably, the door was locked, so he banged on it until Nyota pulled it open, staring at Jim and Spock with the children in their arms.

‘The others can explain, where’s the downstairs bathroom?’

‘First right,’ she blurted, and Jim kicked off his boots and pushed past her with a squirming Liora, bypassing Amanda, whose jaw dropped.

‘Congratulations, Mrs Grayson – you’re a grandma!’ he heard Bones shout, and grinned, despite the possibility of imminent disaster. They got there in time, just about. Jim held her round the waist so she could wash her hands, then carried her out into the living room. Amanda opened her arms immediately, and Jim passed Liora over for Amanda and Nyota to coo at, before moving to where Bones and Spock were huddled around Theo. Lying on the coffee table, blanket undone, he looked impossibly tiny, legs kicking and fingers flexing as he began to express his displeasure in little angry mewls.

‘Is he alright?’ Jim asked softly, kneeling beside Spock and resting his hand against the warm little tummy.

‘Surprisingly healthy, but he needs feedin’. He really is a newborn – ‘bout two or three days old, I reckon, lookin’ at his umbilical cord stump. I’ll go get a bottle fixed.’

‘What about Liora?’

‘She’s just fine. ‘Bout two and a half years old, I think. There’s nothin’ wrong with her vocal cords. She just doesn’t want to speak, do you, darlin’?’

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t respond, but she did look over as he addressed her. Almost as soon as Bones got up, Theo’s mewling transformed into soft cries, his face turning red.

 _His diaper needs to be changed,_ Spock informed him, nose wrinkling, and it wasn’t long before he noticed the smell too.

‘Oh dear,’ Jim cooed, lifting Theo carefully to rest against his chest, nuzzling into his fluffy hair. ‘We’ll have to get that sorted, won’t we? There was a baby here too – have you guys seen a changing table?’

‘Yeah, there’s one across the hall,’ Nyota said, gathering Liora’s hair into a loose ponytail.

‘Come one then, you’ll have to learn,’ he told Spock, bouncing Theo as he cried. Liora strained against Nyota’s restraining arm as they made to leave, a whimper of discontent escaping her mouth, and Spock went to her.

_Go, Jim. I will be there in a moment._

Babe in arms, Jim found the nursery with relative ease, crooning sweet nonsense into Theo’s ear. By the time he had lain the wailing newborn onto the changing table, Spock was beside him.

‘I thought you were bringing her.’

‘She merely needed reassurance that we would return,’ Spock explained, holding Theo still as Jim quickly washed his hands in the sink by the wall.

‘We shouldn’t be long. Okay, so tabs off, fold them over… Pass me that cloth, will you? It’s so he doesn’t pee on me. Put his ankles in your hand like this-’

‘Will that not injure him?’

‘No, no, he’s probably just griping because he’s tired. Or hungry. You can use the front half of the diaper to wipe away any poo, then just fold it under him. And then… clean him off. Oh. Oh dear.’

‘What is wrong?’ Spock demanded, panic flaring through their connection.

‘Nothing too serious,’ Jim murmured, rubbing the sole of Theo’s foot as he whimpered. ‘Just – can you see here? That’s the beginnings of diaper rash, which is going to be sore. Is there barrier cream underneath here?’

Theo squirmed in evident discomfort, little grizzling cries leaving his lips.

‘Poor baba,’ Jim crooned, applying the cream as gently as possible before putting a new nappy on, making sure to avoid the umbilical cord stump. He took one of the onesies from underneath the changing table, trying not to think about the child who it had originally belonged to. Before he could put it on, however, Spock took it from his hands. _You want a go?_

Spock nodded, and Jim moved around the table to make room as Spock clumsily clothed him, bending little arms and legs with infinite care. When Theo continued to cry, Spock gathered him into his arms, beginning an awkward, stilted swaying motion.

‘Hush, pi’veh,’ he murmured, and Jim’s heart swelled as Spock’s wordless translation entered his mind – _little one._ Jim had never really thought about having children until Tarsus. Then, with responsibility forced upon him, he had learned to love them as fiercely as any parent, the only one who was able to keep them warm, and fed, and _safe._ He hadn’t been able to keep them all safe. It was a grief like none other to see a child under his care die, visceral and wrenching, but those who lived had been his greatest joy on that hellhole of a planet. His only joy. By God, he hoped that the remaining eight were using what they had learned in the wastes of Tarsus now. Theo had calmed as Spock held him, making occasional grizzling noises, but quieter all the same. Spock’s head was bent over, strong arms secure around Theo, his lips brushing the baby’s temple, and something in Jim lurched pleasantly.

_God, you look so gorgeous like that._

Head still bent, Spock looked up at him from under long eyelashes, a soft flush at the tips of his ears. Appreciation was beginning to make way for desire, and as much as Jim wanted to indulge, he knew he couldn’t yet. He could hear Bones coming down the corridor with the milk, presumably speaking to Liora –

‘-and whatever the he- whatever that Vulcan word for daddy is.’ The door opened, and Bones came in with a bottle of milk in one hand and Liora’s hand in another. His eyes lit up when he saw Spock and Theo, letting Liora go so she could totter over to Jim. ‘Aww, ain’t that sweet?’

‘Have you a point, Doctor?’ Spock muttered, the irritation that Jim could feel through the bond giving rise to a warmth akin to love as Theo snuffled into his neck, tiny fingers flexing. Jim smiled, his hand coming to rest on Liora’s newly-tamed hair as she curled herself around his leg.

‘Only that this little one is a cutie,’ Bones said good-naturedly, stroking a finger down the back of Theo’s chubby hand. Jim could see the wear in his smile, but refrained from mentioning it, taking the bottle from him.

‘Thanks, Bones. You wanna feed him, Spock?’

‘I may need assistance in adjusting…’ Together, they managed to get Theo into the right position, and Jim handed Spock the bottle, sighing in relief as Theo immediately latched on. He kicked his feet in excitement, and Jim couldn’t help but tickle one, looking up at his bondmate as he felt a surge of pride for their little boy. Spock was staring into Theo’s sleepy blue eyes, his expression unreadable, but Jim could feel his wonder through the bond.

_I had not expected to feel such strong attachment to the children so quickly._

Jim lifted Liora up to see her brother when she tugged on his pant leg, ignoring Bones’ grumbling as he leant forward to kiss Spock gently.

_Neither did I, but I do. Maybe they were meant to come to us._

_Fate, t’hy’la?_

_Yeah. I’m pretty sure that fate had a hand in our relationship, so why not in ours with them?_

_Logical,_ Spock conceded, and Jim smiled against his mouth as he kissed him slower, pressing a few more smooches against Spock’s soft lips as Bones started complaining.

‘Jesus, guys, I’m still here!’

‘Sorry,’ Jim trilled, drawing back.

‘No, you’re not. Brat.’

‘He has finished,’ Spock announced, handing Bones the empty bottle. Theo blinked sleepily up at them as Jim put Liora down and motioned for Spock to hand him over, flinging a towel over his shoulder first.

‘I’ll burp him. Hey, Bones? Before he goes to sleep, can you look at his bottom for me? He looks like he’s developing diaper rash.’

‘’Course I will, poor darlin’. Next time you change his diaper, let me know.’

Jim patted Theo’s back carefully, frightened that doing so harder would hurt him. He was so tiny, so fragile, and his life was in their hands now. It was as scary as it was wonderful. Luckily, Theo didn’t take long to burp, and as Jim settled him into the crook of his arm, Bones scooped Liora up.

‘Maybe you guys should go and clean up before you put them to bed,’ he said, more of a demand than a suggestion. You’re kinda gross right now.’

 _‘You’re_ gross,’ Jim countered, but he and Spock obediently followed him back into the living room, depositing Theo in Amanda’s waiting arms. He grabbed some fresh clothes out of his bag. ‘We won’t be too long.’

‘Oh, it’s no trouble to have these two,’ Amanda beamed, dropping a kiss onto Theo’s forehead as Liora squirmed onto Nyota’s lap.

_Come on, love._

Jim snatched up Spock’s hand and led him upstairs, delighting in the shudder he could feel against his arm as he unleashed the desire that had been building all day. He all but dragged Spock into the bathroom, pressing him back against the closed door and kissing him hard, threading a hand through his silky hair as their mouths slid wetly together. Jim’s hand cradled Spock’s jaw, thumb stroking his cheekbone, and when he dragged his tongue across Spock’s lower lip, his mouth opened with a gasp, the soft sound of it swallowed by Jim’s insistent kiss. He licked his way into Spock’s cool, wet mouth, their tongues curling together as Spock responded with equal hunger, one hand clutching at Jim’s taut bicep, the other fisted in the back of his shirt. Jim felt his cock begin to harden, grinding himself against the soft bulge in Spock’s pants with single-minded determination, the bond thrown wide open as arousal ricocheted between them. They had barely had chance to be together since Des Moines, and Spock looked so fucking perfect with a baby – their babies, for all intents and purposes – and Jim wanted him fiercely. He tore his lips away, still rutting against him as he panted for air, pressing their foreheads together. Spock looked delicious, a green flush painting his cheeks and the points of his ears, his hair all in disarray, and he writhed against Jim like a wild thing.

‘I want you,’ Jim said raggedly, pressing hot, suckling kisses to his jawline. ‘I need you.’

‘Jim… we cannot.’ His tone was at odds with his words, pitchy and breathy, and it made Jim want to pleasure him until he screamed. ‘The others – _the children_ – are downstairs.’

‘I’ll just have to attend to my own needs then,’ Jim purred, pushing across a thick pulse of arousal that made Spock slump against the door, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the frame. With aching slowness, Jim pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it carelessly on the floor, letting his muscles flex as he did so. He knew he looked good, and Spock certainly seemed to think so too, his flush deepening and spreading, their mutual desire almost unbearable in its intensity. Jim couldn’t repress a quiet moan as he undid his pants, pushing his boxers down so that the waistband rested beneath his balls. His erection curved up against his stomach, thick and wet and aching.

 _‘Jim,’_ Spock whispered, strangled.

‘You wanna watch, honey?’

Jim widened his stance as much as his pants would let him, and let the flat of his hand ghost over the wetness at the head of his cock, moaning breathily. The other hand drifted upwards, and he took two fingers into his mouth, sucking loudly and obscenely, looking up at Spock from beneath lowered eyelashes.

 _T’nash-veh,_ Spock growled, eyes black with desire. Jim barely had time to wrap a hand around his cock before Spock was on him, his pants and socks torn off and his hand replaced by Spock’s cool grip. Jim whined, the sound muffled by a deep kiss as Spock divested himself of his clothing, tugging gently at Jim’s erection all the while. Stumbling backwards, he reached blindly for the shower controls as Spock latched onto his neck, sucking and nibbling at a spot that made his balls throb.

 _Sweetheart, please,_ he choked, finally managing to get the water going as Spock reached his nipple, the combination of a suckling mouth on his areola and a thumb worrying at the slit of his cock almost overwhelming.

‘Khio’ri t’nash-veh,’Spock purred, herding him into the shower, and sinking to his knees. ‘Ashaya t’nash-veh.’

Jim let out a long, low groan as Spock sealed his lips around the head of his cock and began to suck, hopelessly aroused by the sight of his dilated pupils as their eyes met.

_T’hy’la t’nash-veh._

He was embarrassingly close to climax already, watching Spock’s lips sinking further down his cock until he was taken in to the hilt and pulling back in a flawless, measured rhythm, and he knew he probably shouldn’t be turned on by the precision, but everything about Spock turned him on.

‘Fuck, baby, you’re so good,’ he moaned, tangling his fingers in sodden black hair. ‘So fucking perfect.’

Spock’s hands were on his hips, just holding him, not restraining him, and when he began to rock into the cool wet haven of Spock’s mouth, his grip loosened further.

_Yessss, ashayam, take your pleasure._

He sucked harder, mouth forming an almost pneumatic seal on Jim’s aching cock, and Jim let go of his restraint. With constant awareness of Spock’s feelings through the bond, he began to thrust in earnest, watching his cock slide out until he could rub the sensitive head against Spock’s soft swollen lips, then back in until he could feel Spock’s throat contracting around him as he swallowed.

 _‘Spock,’_ he whimpered, beginning a chant of his name until the repetitions all ran together in a strangled moan. He could only feel excitement and pleasure coming from his bondmate, and with that reassurance, he picked up speed, thrusts shallower but harder, and when Spock moved a hand around to press against his perineum, he came hard, groaning as he spurted into Spock’s mouth. Spock didn’t spill a drop, swallowing what was offered and licking him clean before standing, pupils blown wide and erection dripping. Jim made to take him in hand, but Spock evidently had other ideas, turning him around and pressing him against the wall. If it had been anyone else, Jim would have panicked, but he trusted Spock unconditionally. When Spock’s dick slid through his cleft, an arm encircling his waist, he held himself still, taking Spock’s unoccupied hand in his and sucking loudly on three fingers.

 _Does that feel good, baby?_ he asked, revelling in Spock’s broken moan against the nape of his neck. He clenched around him as tightly as he could. _Your fingers in my mouth and your dick up against my hole? You’re so close now, I can feel it. I want you to come, Spock. Want you to come all over my ass. Mark me as yours, t’hy’la._

Spock growled, pulling his fingers from Jim’s mouth as he rutted against him, saliva-wet hand reaching for Jim’s meld points.

_K’diwa, I want…_

There was that strange, wonderful joining once again, their minds flowing together as Spock moaned Jim’s name into his ear, semen splattering against his ass and across the small of his back, but then Jim was coming again, pleasure centres sought and stimulated with single-minded determination until he pulsed against the wall before him, cock lifting with each forceful spurt.

‘Fuuuuck,’ he groaned, pretty sure that he would have collapsed had Spock’s arm still not been around his waist, holding him upright. ‘How did I get so lucky?’

‘I might ask myself the same question,’ Spock murmured, turning him round and kissing him sloppily, before handing him the shampoo. ‘Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.’

‘Mmm, I love you too. You’ve really gotta teach me more Vulcan, by the way. I can’t be asking Nyota about the things you say when we’re making love… Oh, shit. They’re going to wonder where we’ve gone.’

‘I think that it is more likely that we will have to endure alternate bouts of mockery and disgust,’ Spock corrected, reaching for the shower gel. ‘I also believe that the length of time we remain here will correlate with the levels of teasing.’

Jim snorted, lathering up his hair.

‘Best snap to it then, hey?’

After they had washed and dressed, Jim paused by the bathroom door, ready to switch from partner to parent mode.

‘Should we- should we talk about the kids? I mean, about what that means for us, or..?’

Spock bundled up his dirty clothes under his arm and straightened, eyes soft.

‘Like most Vulcans, I prefer my life to be populated by planned, unambiguous events,’ he began, holding out two fingers, a Vulcan kiss which Jim scrambled to return. ‘I have recently discovered, however, that uncertainty is not always discomforting, despite the disastrous situation we find ourselves in. I did not dare to imagine finding my t’hy’la on Terra, let alone our children, and yet, your existence, and theirs, is the greatest joy that I have. We have taken on a great responsibility, my Jim. We are parents now, and that knowledge alone is enough to carry me through whatever adversity we may encounter.’

Blinking away tears, Jim curled into him, enjoying his fresh, clean scent.

‘I’m so glad I found you,’ he whispered, the heaviness of heart that Spock had begun to alleviate lightening further at the thought of their children, waiting for them with the rest of their little, dysfunctional family. ‘Let’s go and be parents.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this was a shock to some of you, but a little less to others. Please, please comment and let me know what you think - I truly appreciate every scrap of feedback I get! These two are beloved to me already, and I can't wait to write more about them :D 
> 
> Just a few little translations for you: 't'nash-veh' means 'my/mine' and 'khio'ri' means 'star'... and I think that's it.
> 
> As I think I've already mentioned, I'm working full-time now, and I really struggled to get this chapter done in time. I'm going to try my best to keep to a schedule, but I'd rather have a few days'/a week's delay than have the quality of my writing drop. So basically, don't worry if there is a delay, because I would never abandon this story!
> 
> Again, please let me know if you enjoyed it, and you can always catch me at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) for general star trek chit chat and fic discussions :D


	14. Don't Take My Sunshine Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no gore in this chapter, but I'm going to warn you firstly that there's an insinuation of child sexual abuse (nothing graphic), and secondly, that there's something that a number of you might find upsetting. Ridiculously vague, I know, but I'm not sure how to warn for it without giving the game away. Hope you enjoy!

Stardate 2261.76. 0900 hours. KL interviewing STS.

It seems that the dam has broken in terms of the children. Just as Jim brought Theo along to his last session, Spock has brought Liora to his. After a quick introduction, she flops down on the floor, drawing padd and stylus in hand, and begins scribbling furiously. Perhaps five years old, she has the same eyes that I saw in the holo of her mother, her hair almost the same shade as Jim’s despite his lack of genetic contribution, pulled back into a plait that reaches her waist. Although she seems oblivious to our conversation, even when I mention her by name, I can’t help but worry.

STS: I hope that you do not mind Liora’s presence. We prefer to keep the children close, when at all possible.

_[He has obviously noticed me looking at her, and I decide not to feign ignorance.]_

It’s not that _I_ mind her being here, but don’t _you?_ We’re talking about some pretty heavy stuff here.

_[In reply, Spock reaches down and raises the loop of hair that has fallen down over her right ear. There is something visible in her earhole, but it moves out of view as Liora raises her head in question, and the hair falls back into place. Spock shakes his head minutely, lips twitching in the closest approximation of a smile that I have ever seen from him. His hand lingers on her crown for a moment as she returns to scribbling.]_

STS: She has experienced all that we have experienced in the past three years, and although I agree that she should not be subjected to hearing of horrors she does not remember, the point is moot. Jim has purchased a portable music device for her, so she will not be able to listen to our discussion.

Oh, good. It must have been a shock to all of a sudden have kids. How did you cope?

STS: Rather well, considering the circumstances. Jim already knew a considerable amount about childcare, and my mother and Doctor McCoy were on hand if we were uncertain about anything.

I suppose they slowed you down though.

STS: Perhaps. Our priorities certainly shifted on the day that we became parents. Their safety became of paramount importance, predominating all else.

_[His eyes flick to Liora, a short, verifying glance, before meeting mine once more.]_

Guess you and Jim are pretty protective of them, huh?

STS: Naturally. Liora has been in great danger for most of her life, Theodore for all of his. We are all habituated to caution.

Have you been making use of the counselling services?

_[Spock straightens, looking ready to offer an emotionless rejoinder, but then we are both distracted by Liora scrambling to sit upright. Oblivious to our conversation, she leans her head against her father’s shin as she crosses her legs, frilly socks hidden beneath her dress.]_

STS: _[less coldly than expected]_ I am Vulcan, and therefore, I do not require such aid. The children began an intensive program upon arrival, and have nearly completed it. A number of crewmembers have lesser counselling qualifications, and Jim and I believe that they will be adequate for our children’s future needs.

And what about Jim?

STS: I have been unable to persuade him to go. He claims that since he did without such help after previous traumatic experiences, he can cope without it now.

Previous traumatic experiences? What can be as bad as the hell you’ve just been in?

STS: _[shaking his head]_ I will not betray Jim’s confidence by discussing his past. You are free to ask him to do so, but I think it is unlikely that you will succeed. He is a man of indomitable will.

Yeah, I definitely know that. Will you tell me about the first night with the children?

STS: What do you wish to know?

Whatever you want to tell me.

_[‘Sa-mekh, look!’ Liora interrupts, taking the device from her ear as she shows him a picture of what seems to be their family. All is well, apart from the creature lurking in the background that I assume is one of the Infected._

_‘Maut rom, pi’veh,’ Spock murmurs. ‘Bes-tor wuh'ashiv?’_

_‘Ha.’_

_I don’t understand, but I don’t mind that. Liora starts drawing anew, clumsily pushing the device back into her ear. Spock looks to me, and begins.]_

 

* * *

 

Getting the children to bed was remarkably easy, despite the trauma they had experienced that day. Once fed and changed, Theodore had settled in the crib they had transferred into their room for the night, while Liora had been relocated to a small bed in the room adjacent when she had fallen asleep in his mother’s arms, the adjoining door left wide open should she wake. It had become habit for the five of them to remain together on the ground floor of a house until they wished to sleep, but neither he nor Jim had wanted to leave the children alone upstairs, especially as it was their first night without their mother. Before they had retired, Spock’s mother had pulled him aside and hugged him. He had not realised how much he had missed her touch until he was faced with the prospect of losing her altogether.

‘I’m so proud of you, Spock,’ she had told him, her smile crooked and eyes joyful. ‘You certainly delivered on my request for grandbabies earlier than expected.’

‘Yes, however unintentionally. Mother, I… I fear for them.’

‘That would be natural without an apocalypse,’ she replied, her expression at once amused and sympathetic. ‘We’ll be careful, and they’ll be fine. They’ve got five of us to protect them.’

Spock wasn’t sure he entirely endorsed her optimism. Not only did he share the responsibility of keeping Jim and the others safe, but now two small ones also. He had to admit to more than a little trepidation regarding their care. It was difficult enough to provide security for the adults in their group, and that difficulty had now increased tenfold. He had rarely dwelled on the possibility of parenthood in the past, the threat of sterility that arose from his hybrid status always lurking in the background, but to be a father to Jim’s children – to _their_ children – was a privilege. Already, he cared for Liora and Theodore immensely, knew that losing either of them would devastate him, and that only compounded his worry about their safety.

He had slept enough over the past few days to carve away a little time for meditation, so once Jim and the children were sleeping, he sat beside Theodore’s crib and began to process his attachment to the children. Two point three hours later, he was interrupted by a whimper of distress. In the few seconds that it took Spock to re-orientate himself, the whimpering became a fretful, stilted grizzling, rising in pitch and volume until he stood over the crib, reaching for his son. As he lifted him into his arms, Spock could faintly smell urine, but he imagined that Theodore’s anguish was rather more food-related.

‘Shhh, slor-veh,’ he whispered, allowing calm to suffuse him as he pressed his lips against the baby’s soft hair. ‘Shhh, all is well. I will feed you.’

He looked back at the bed; Jim was still sound asleep, sprawled diagonally across it on his back. Concealing a fond half-smile by kissing a fussy Theodore again, Spock left the room as quietly as he could and subsequently met his mother in the hallway, her sudden appearance under the dimmed lights making his heart spasm in his side.

‘Is he alright?’ she asked, rubbing her eyes as she leant back against the door of the bedroom she and Nyota were sharing.

‘Yes. He needs feeding, and perhaps changing.’

‘Normally I’d tell you to leave him if he’s only weed, but we need that diaper rash better, don’t we, my darling?’ The last four words were high-pitched and saccharine, Amanda’s thumb stroking Theodore’s chubby little hand as he grabbed at her finger. ‘Change him before you feed him. He’ll fuss less. Do you need help?’

‘No, Mother, I am fine,’ Spock assured her, shifting the baby into a more secure hold as he let go of the finger and shoved his fist into his mouth. ‘You should sleep.’

‘Alright, baby, goodnight. Wake me if you need me.’

‘Goodnight,’ he returned, hearing the bedroom door click as he descended the stairs. He may have had an eidetic memory, but changing Theodore was still a challenge for unpractised hands, the fragility of the tiny, warm body underneath them keeping him on constant high-alert. He did not babble to the infant, not like Jim did, but he found that a combination of sharing his emotions through touch-telepathy and speaking quietly to Theodore kept him most calm. Perhaps his father would not approve of such blatant emotionalism, but Spock did not think it inappropriate to freely show love to his children. He would not leave Theodore or Liora feeling starved of affection. He would not make the same mistakes as Sarek. Once changed, the baby still squirmed, his legs kicking and little fists balling in his frustration at remaining unfed.

‘I know. One moment, sa-fu.’

Doctor McCoy had left a couple of milk bottles in stasis, and Spock was grateful for his forethought as he reached for one, pressing the nipple to his son’s lips. Theodore latched on immediately, his fussing coming to an abrupt end, and Spock marvelled at how such simplicity could bring him to contentment. When he had finished, Spock took a cloth from the counter and laid it under Theodore’s head on his shoulder as he burped him, only realising quite how tired he was when the soothing circles he was making on the tiny back finally elicited a burp.

‘Good boy,’ he murmured, hearing the deep, slow breaths beside his ear with a flood of affection. He carried Theodore upstairs slowly, so as not to disturb his sleep, and placed him in his crib with care, pressing a light Vulcan kiss to his cheek as he covered him with his blanket. ‘Sleep well, my son.’

Jim was still sprawled across the bed, but this time he was on his front, one arm hanging off the side while the other lay across Spock’s pillow. Spock still found it difficult to believe that he had found his t’hy’la, that he could touch and be touched, love and receive love, without being castigated for it. He had never expected such a wonderful bondmate, let alone children. His heart squeezing, Spock sat on the edge of the bed and trailed a hand over Jim’s bicep, an unexpected spike of desire taking him as he felt the bulging muscle under hot, soft skin. Jim moaned and stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

‘You think I’m sexy, huh?’ he asked hoarsely, a lazy smile visible to Spock’s superior vision as he rolled onto his side, tugging Spock to lie down beside him. ‘You know you’re a stud too, right?’

Spock gave into the irrepressible urge to kiss him, their lips sliding together slowly, gently, the hour too late and the children too present for anything more.

‘I am glad you think so, sa-telsu.’

‘Mmm, don’t call me that. You know it gets me hot. Kids okay?’

Spock nodded, drawing Jim’s head onto his chest. Jim curled around him as if he had been doing so forever, a leg insinuating itself between his, fingers playing with the hair upon his chest.

‘I changed and fed Theodore just before you woke. Liora has not woken, as far as I know.’

‘Good,’ Jim sighed, and if Spock had been preparing for further conversation, he was left wanting. Jim was asleep again, his questing hand lax, his expression softened. Grateful for the chance to rest, Spock wrapped his arms around Jim and buried his nose in his soft hair, allowing his cognitive processes to slow as he followed Jim into sleep.

He was roused not by physical stimulation, but mental. The bond, once quiescent with sleep, now thrummed with agony, and Spock reacted instinctively, entering his t’hy’la’s mind with minimal effort as Jim silently screamed for help. What he saw there was… devastating. There was a dark room, the grey light of day seeping in from high, barred windows just enough that a human could see shape, but not detail, and not colour. Spock could see detail, though. He could see seven men in various states of undress, stripping further and laughing raucously as they did so, their behaviour akin to camaraderie in a gym changing room. And he could see a boy – a thin boy. So terribly thin that Spock could count his ribs, could see patches of his matted hair missing, could see the violent tremoring of emaciated limbs, his arms wrapped tight around his narrow shins. This was Jim, and he was terrified.

‘Come on, boy,’ one man smirked, stepping into what little light there was, a hand down his trousers. ‘You know the drill.’

Rage boiled in Spock until his head was pounding with the increased blood flow, nails cutting into the sensitive skin of his hands. He could not change what had happened in reality, but he could prevent Jim from having to relive this horror once more. He would make these disgusting, predatory degenerates his prey. He moved through the shadows with savage intent, and one by one, the perverted creatures fell beneath his hands, until at last, there was only Jim. There was no fear in his eyes as he staggered to his feet, his coltish, skeletal body lurching forwards into Spock’s arms before they were thrown from the meld. Spock had not moved but for the hand reaching for Jim’s meld points, his arms still wrapped tightly around his t’hy’la. There was a patch of wetness on his chest; Jim was crying. Turning onto his side and easing him into the cradle of his arm, Spock kissed his tightly closed eyelids, the end of his nose, his soft, downturned lips.

‘Ashaya, I am sorry,’ he whispered, wiping away the constant flow of tears. ‘I am so sorry.’

Jim’s eyes opened, bright blue and impossibly beautiful in the midst of his weeping.

‘What’re you apologising for?’ he asked thickly, pressing his hand against the one on his cheek. ‘You _saved_ me, Spock. I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you.’

‘And I you, but you never need to thank me for helping you. I dislike seeing you in pain, my Jim. It is a privilege to be yours, and I will always protect those that I love.’

Though the tears had stopped, Jim’s eyes were still glossy with the aftermath as they met his, full of the gratitude and love that were freely flowing between them.

‘Jesus Christ. You’ve ruined me, you know that? Never would’ve even thought about marriage and kids with anyone else.’

‘Nor I,’ Spock said honestly. ‘I had not imagined that I could ever experience such happiness.’

They kissed once more, lazy and thorough in their oral explorations, but then Spock’s ears caught the sound of Theodore’s first cry, which morphed into plaintive howling in the few seconds it took for them to separate.

‘I’ll get him,’ Jim smiled, pressing a final kiss to his lips before rising from the bed, flicking a light on as he went. He took their son into his arms with tender care, cradling him against his bare chest. ‘Shhh, sweetie, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here, don’t cry.’

Spock sat up in bed to watch as Jim soothed Theodore, the howling dying down until the quiet was only punctuated by the occasional grumpy outburst.

‘I’ll take him down,’ Jim murmured, shifting the baby from a vertical to a horizontal position, and a startled yelp escaped his lips as Theodore latched onto his nipple. He pulled the baby away, laughing, which only elicited another bout of crying. ‘No, no, baby boy. I don’t have any milk for you there. I’ll get you some now, alright?’

‘Would you like me to come with you?’ Spock asked, disliking the fact that Jim was losing sleep when his own physiology allowed him to lose much more without consequence.

‘No, it’s fine. I’ll be back up in a bit.’

As he left their bedroom, Spock lowered himself back down, intent on remaining awake until Jim returned with the little one. As he turned onto his side, he saw something move by the connecting door – a little shape in the shadows.

‘Liora?’ he called softly, getting out of bed. As he approached, she tottered forwards, her face wet with tears. He caught her under the arms and lifted her onto his hip, smoothing down her tousled hair into something resembling order as she cried hysterically into his neck, her body shaking with the force of her tears. Despite her obvious turmoil, she sobbed almost silently, the croak of every indrawn breath her loudest utterance, and Spock realised with great sadness that it was probably because she had already realised the dangers of making noise. Rubbing her back, he sat down on the bed and allowed her to settle in his lap, snuffling into his neck. He was very aware of the uncomfortable combination of salty tears and nasal mucus dripping onto his skin, but his comfort came second to that of his child. Nineteen point seven minutes later, she had finally begun to calm, hiccupping in the aftermath of her bout of sobbing, little cheeks red and hot from the exertion.

‘Mama,’ she whispered, slumping boneless against him. Spock’s chest constricted with sorrow and sympathy, knowing that the death of her mother was one thing Jim and he could not protect her from.

‘You are safe, pi’veh,’ he murmured, placing his cheek against the crown of her head as he rocked her on his lap. ‘You are safe, and you will remain here with us.’

According to his mother, a child of two and a half should have a vocabulary of a few hundred words, but he did not know which words in particular she could comprehend. If Liora did not understand their meaning, he hoped that at least she understood their sentiment. Lowering his shields ever so slightly, Spock allowed his affection to wash over her, curling into the recesses of her infant mind in the most tangible sense of security he could ever provide. He could feel her consciousness begin to cloud with sleep, but when Jim entered the bedroom, she stirred and wriggled around so that she could look at him.

‘Hey, sweetie,’ Jim whispered, kissing their sleeping baby and lowering him into the crib. _What’s the matter with her?_

 _She misses her mother,_ Spock told him, allowing Jim to take her from his arms and fold her into an embrace.

‘I know you miss your mommy, baby. I know, but we’ve got you now.’

Spock watched with a deep warmth in his chest as Liora fell asleep in his bondmate’s arms, her body limp with fatigue, tear tracks staining her skin. Jim rocked her for a long while afterwards, his expression unreadable, but Spock could feel the gamut of emotions emanating from the bond, a whole spectrum of colour and light and feeling. Rising from the bed, he took her from an unresisting, exhausted Jim, kissing him softly as he did so.

_Go to bed, t’hy’la. I will be with you shortly._

Mumbling his agreement, Jim stumbled over to it, while Spock carried Liora into her room, laying her down and pulling the covers up over her. She twitched in sleep, but didn’t stir as he moved her, pressing the same tender kiss to her cheek as he had to Theodore’s.

‘Good night, small one,’ he murmured, making sure that she was sleeping peacefully before he backed out of the room and joined Jim in bed, curling around him in a position that Jim had called ‘spooning’ the first time he had done so.

 _She is well,_ Spock told him, their fingers tangling together against Jim’s stomach.

 _I hope she’s okay,_ Jim replied, eyes firmly closed. _Bones is a doctor, not a psychiatrist._

_I know. Sleep, my Jim. We have much to do in the morning._

An incoherent sound of affirmation later, Jim fell silent, the racing jumble of his thoughts beginning to settle into a lulling rhythm, like the ebb and flow of waves on the shore. It was not long before Spock followed him into sleep.

The next morning was filled with a flurry of activity, the children keeping them busy as they prepared to leave more carefully than ever before, Amanda, Nyota and Leonard running out for the food and materials they would need to keep Theodore alive and healthy. It did not sit well for Spock to remain at home while the others potentially risked their lives – and Jim was certainly very uncomfortable with it also – but as Spock’s mother reminded him, they had more to think about than each other now. It was 48.6 minutes after they had left that he felt a pulse of panic through the bond, followed almost immediately by a high, alarmed cry of his name. Snatching up Liora, who whimpered in confusion, Spock took the stairs two at a time, and was confronted by Jim’s terror-filled expression as their son lay pale and unresponsive in his open palms. There was milky vomit over Theodore’s front, and before Jim could speak, yet more bubbled from his mouth, a soft grunting noise repeatedly escaping him. Icy fear took hold of Spock, his heart thundering and windpipe constricting.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong, Spock, I-I don’t know,’ Jim babbled, tipping the baby further upright so he didn’t choke. ‘He’s really hot, b-but his hands are cold, and I don’t-’

Spock let Liora down, and she clung to his leg as he pressed the back of his hand to the baby’s forehead, chest clenching when he felt the heat of it.

‘He is feverish.’

‘He wouldn’t eat anything,’ Jim rushed, voice thin with distress. Tears were welling in his eyes. ‘And Bones isn’t here. God, why isn’t Bones here?’

Spock was at a loss. Despite the fact that he could not have predicted this happening, he was furious at himself for having no real medical knowledge, but terror was the overriding emotion battering against his shields. Terror that the Doctor would not return in time. Terror that their child would die because of it. The relief that filled him when he heard the front door open was dizzying, but that relief was immediately wiped out by sheer horror when Theodore began to convulse, tiny body jerking and spasming in Jim’s arms.

‘We’re back!’ Nyota called, and as soon as she did so, Jim screamed for Doctor McCoy. Spock’s eyes were fixed on Theodore as footsteps pounded on the stairs, watching the unceasing fitting with dread so acute that he felt nauseous.

‘What in the blue blazes is-?’ As McCoy reached the landing, he rushed over, tone hardening. ‘Put him down, Jim.’

Complying immediately, Jim placed the baby gently on the floor, and Leonard began searching his Medikit. Spock heard two more steps of footsteps on the stairs, heard his mother let out a sob, but he didn’t look round as he knelt, pulling his daughter closer to him.

‘I’m giving him 15mg of Phenytoin to stop him seizing,’ Leonard explained, loading a hypospray and pressing it gently into Theodore’s neck. Jim was in tears, and Spock found his own eyes beginning to sting as he saw the seizure come to an end, his son’s limbs flopping against the floor. The Doctor tore open the press studs on his clothing, and Spock’s stomach plummeted as he saw the rash on Theodore’s stomach, blotchy and red.

‘Bacterial meningitis,’ Leonard hissed, pressing a microscope slide against the rash. ‘I need cephalosporins, and I didn’t pick any up in the pharmacy – got distracted by the kids.’

‘I’ll get what you need,’ Jim said hoarsely, getting to his feet and staring down at Theodore. ‘Spock and I will go.’

‘Fine. You listenin’, Spock? I need as many as you can get me of these: Ampicillin, Cefotaxime or Ceftriaxone, and Vancomycin. Go.’

The names of the drugs rattled through Spock’s mind as he handed a bewildered Liora off to his crying mother, breaking into a run after Jim. Neither bothered with seatbelts as Jim slammed his foot down on the accelerator, wiping angrily at his eyes. Adrenaline was coursing through Spock’s veins, expanding his lung capacity and redirecting blood between muscle groups, and as the car raced towards their destination, he found himself twitching in his seat, his body eager to complete the task necessary to save their son’s life. It was not productive to dwell on misery when such urgency was required, but images of Theodore continued to plague him, the veil of objectivity he might once have possessed destroyed by the knowledge that he was _his_ child, _his_ responsibility.

‘Jim,’ he croaked, uncertain as to what his next words would be. Despair was trickling steadily between them, bolstered by fear and anxiety, and although Spock struggled valiantly for neutrality, his shields were beginning to crack.

‘Don’t.’

‘Jim, I-’

‘Spock, _please,’_ Jim begged, voice breaking. ‘Let’s just get this done.’

Despite his own illogical craving for reassurance, Spock did not want to add to his turmoil. He did not speak for the remainder of the journey, taking hold of the phaser he had concealed underneath the seat and passing it between his hands in a rare show of nervous anticipation. The pharmacy seemed as deserted as it had the first time they had visited it, but the caution Spock naturally had was undercut by the ever-present knowledge that time was passing, his perfect sense of it now seeming more of a liability than an asset. The two of them entered wordlessly, the synchronicity of their movements dictated less by the bond and more by necessity, going straight to the storeroom to search.

‘What are they called again?’ Jim asked breathlessly, starting at one end of the first shelf while Spock started on the other. ‘Amox..?’

‘Ampicillin. Cefotaxime. Ceftriaxone. Vancomycin.’

‘I have Ampicillin!’

‘And I have Cefotaxime,’ Spock replied, stuffing all three bottles remaining on the shelf into his pocket. The triumph was short-lived, however, as they searched fruitlessly for the rest, Doctor McCoy’s stark words of warning imprinted in Spock’s memory. There was a skittering sound as something outside the room moved, but Spock didn’t turn, desperation forcing his eyes and hands faster: Cefalexin, Diazepam, Fexofenadine… no Vancomycin.

‘It’s not here,’ Jim whispered, devastation colouring his tone. ‘Oh God, please.’

‘I will check the store front.’

Spock found that his breath was becoming harder to draw in, like there was a hand compressing his throat, but he ignored it in favour of stumbling out of the storeroom. As he did so, however, he was immediately accosted by a long-haired, half-naked Feral. It grasped and tore at his clothing as he struggled to bring his phaser up, and slumped to the side as Jim shot it instead, revealing the gruesomely exposed muscle on its face as it fell onto its back.

‘You alright?’ Jim asked, worry seeping through their connection. ‘You see any more?’

_I am well, Jim. And no, I do not._

The door was hanging open, indicating that the Infected had come in from the outside rather than having been there already, so Spock snapped part of a plastic shelf edge off to barricade the way before they each went back to their search. When the storeroom yielded nothing further, Jim joined him on the shop floor, which took much less time to scour due to the decimation of the shelves by looters.

‘I can’t find any. Have you found any?’

 _No, t’hy’la,_ Spock replied sadly, triple-checking the shelves before him. The word ‘Vancomycin’ was written in bold letters on the label on the far right of the second shelf down, mocking him with the absence of anything filling it. Theodore needed that final drug, and he did not wish to accept that they would have to do without it.

‘M-maybe Bones can help him with what we’ve found,’ Jim stammered. ‘He’s is the best doctor I’ve ever met – fixed me up enough times.’

Spock said nothing; he was not yet certain about Leonard’s medical abilities, and he considered hope a dangerous thing. In the bleak silence, he avoided Jim’s pleading stare, and in that moment, something caught his eye. He dropped to his knees on the dirty floor, reaching between the edge of a display stand and a support column, groping in the dark. He cringed minutely at the feeling of dust and grit against his fingers, and when his hand grasped a liquid bottle, he dragged it out so quickly that he scraped his arm. His heartbeat became briefly arrhythmic when he saw the label upon it, and passed it to Jim to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating from sheer desperation.

‘Vancomycin,’ Jim breathed, clutching the precious bottle to his chest. ‘This has to be enough - come on.’

Brutally crushing the relief that rose in him, Spock overtook Jim as they raced to the doors, snapping in two the shelf edge that held them closed, and took the driver’s seat. It was not that he did not trust Jim to get them there safely, but he knew that his better reflexes would allow them to arrive intact in less time. Ignoring his internal chronometer, he measured their journey in the number of Jim’s heavy breaths, in the rhythmic clicking of the windscreen wipers, clearing away the fine rain from the glass. The bond was open, but subdued, as Spock flattened the negativity that threatened to overtake it, reaching out to Jim’s mind to help him quell his own rising dread.

_How much farther is it?_

_Nought point six miles,_ Spock told him, gripping the wheel so tightly that he knew there would be indentations left behind in the vinyl.

_Give me the bottles? I’ll run in and you can park._

Spock passed them over one by one, pushing the accelerator as far down as he dared. His heart was racing once more, and it took conscious effort to return to homeostasis, the knowledge that Theodore’s recovery was out of his hands giving him no comfort whatsoever. At last, just as the drizzle became a downpour, the house became visible under grey skies, and Jim made a small sound of either impatience or victory as Spock slammed the accelerator to the floor. He took care in braking only because they had yet again neglected to don their seatbelts, and as soon as the car slowed to a crawl, Jim was out and running. Spock followed as speedily as possible, his distaste at the way the rain plastered his hair to his forehead overridden by his pulsing anxiety, Jim’s side of the bond providing no clue about Theodore’s wellbeing.

He slammed the door behind him as he entered the house, skidding to a halt in front of Nyota, whose face was tear-streaked and pallid.

‘I’ll lock the door,’ she insisted, stepping out of the way. ‘He’s alive, in your bedroom. Go.’

He needed no encouragement, pounding up the stairs and hurtling into the room they had slept in the night before, his heart lurching as he saw the pale, still body of his son in the half-light, a strange, moaning cry periodically leaving Theodore’s lips. Jim was knelt beside the bed as if in prayer, and he reached for Spock as he came in, eyes trained unceasingly on the baby even as he gestured towards him. Spock went willingly, taking his hand as Doctor McCoy set up an IV, his expression even more grim than it habitually was. Jim stroked one tiny, lax hand with a finger, a strange sound rising from the back of his throat when Theodore did not react to his touch.

‘Is he gonna be okay?’ he whispered, tears dripping onto the bedspread. Spock clasped his free hand on top of the one that was clutching his, and looked to the Doctor, eager to find out himself.

‘I sure hope so, Jimmy,’ Leonard offered, dropping into a chair beside the bed. ‘You got me the drugs I needed, but only time will tell. We might be here for a while because he’s so little – could be a week or two. Please stop cryin’, kid, it makes my bitter old Grinch heart feel somethin’.’

‘M’sorry,’ Jim mumbled, wiping his eyes. ‘He’s just so little, and he looks so sick.’

‘I know, and it’s horrible, but I’m tryin’ my hardest to fix him, I promise.’

 _Do not apologise for caring, k’diwa,_ Spock said soothingly. _If Doctor McCoy is as talented as you insist he is, then I am certain that Theodore will recover._

Jim nodded, and leant forward to smooth Theodore’s hair down, a smile tugging at his lips.

_It won’t lay flat, whatever I do. Thank God he’s stopped crying._

_I, too, found it disturbing,_ Spock admitted. _Seeing him in such pain is an experience that I would not like to repeat._

‘Y’all are talkin’ in your heads again, aren’t ya? Rude.’

‘I am certain that there are things that you would not like to hear discussed between my bondmate and I out loud,’ Spock said smoothly, slipping Theodore’s sock back over his heel. ‘Where is Liora?’

‘Your mom is with her in the next room. She was findin’ it difficult to watch, and the kid didn’t need to.’

‘You should sit, Jim,’ Spock insisted, half-lifting him onto the bed beside Theodore. ‘I will only be a moment.’

He cast a final, assessing look at the baby before cracking open the connecting door, finding his mother sitting on the floor beside a sleeping Liora. At first, she seemed only to be leaning on the bed, but then he saw her eyelids flutter, and realised that she had also been sleeping.

‘You’re back already?’ she muttered, then her eyes widened, and her body jerked. ‘Oh God, is Theo alright? Did you get the medicine?’

‘We did,’ Spock confirmed, tugging up Liora’s blanket where it had slipped.

‘And is it- is it working?’

‘We are not yet certain, but Doctor McCoy is hopeful.’

‘Oh.’ Tears welled in her eyes, her hair unkempt as if she had been running her fingers through it. ‘Oh, Spock, I hope he’s alright.’

‘As do I,’ Spock whispered, closing his eyes briefly. He had not yet had time to compartmentalise the pain, anxiety and grief at seeing his son so ill, and now that he was effectively useless in his recovery, he was only just beginning to come to terms with the events of the day.

‘You know, you were really sick once.’

His eyes opened, intrigue spiking.

‘I do not recall,’ he murmured, head tilting. ‘I must have been very young.’

‘You were,’ Amanda replied, shifting into a cross-legged position and tipping her head back against the guard rail. Spock likewise sat, in deference to her, and she smiled tiredly, her eyes reddened. ‘You picked up bacteria from me when I gave birth to you, and it gave you a blood infection. Bacterial sepsis. My God, I was so frightened. You cried, and cried, and cried. I was exhausted; Sarek stayed up with you most of the time when we thought it was just what newborns did. But then you got this terrible fever, and we called the doctor. And thank God we did, or who knows what would have happened? Leonard is a good doctor, Spock. If anybody can help Theo in this situation, he can.’

Spock nodded, getting to his feet.

‘Thank you for informing me. If either of you need me, I will be in the next room.’

‘Alright. I’ll wake her up in a bit, and we’ll come visit. Spock?’ He turned back towards her expectantly, distracted by thoughts of Theodore. ‘I love you, honey.’

Chest warming, Spock allowed himself the slightest twitch of lips.

‘And I you, mother.’

He opened the door, and stepped back through to continue his vigil with Jim and Leonard, perhaps allowing the slightest spark of hope to remain free.

At 03:00, he lay awake on his side beside Jim, their feet facing the headboard and Theodore’s cot pulled up to the bottom of the bed, which he now lay in, still being intravenously medicated. Jim was sound asleep, and although he knew that Doctor McCoy was sleeping on a mattress against the wall, and that he had set up early warning systems surrounding the baby, Spock could not help but sit up to watch his son. Jim whined in his sleep, arms closing around air, so he carefully pulled Jim’s pillow – head and all – onto his lap, running his fingers through soft, golden hair. With nobody awake to see, a gentle, indulgent smile touched his lips for a moment, listening to the quiet buzz of his bondmate’s dreams. Occasionally, he would hear something coherent – Theodore, Liora, Spock – but for the most part, it was a pleasant background hum.

Theodore was still pale, but the rash that had spread over his stomach looked rather less vivid, and he was no longer in respiratory distress, a fact for which Spock was immeasurably grateful. If one ignored the peripheral cannula in his hand, he looked almost healthy, his face at rest, expression peaceful. He had been fed and changed – carefully, so carefully – less than an hour ago, and they had all been pleased that he seemed to be healing rapidly. Just as he had thought it impossible at first with Jim, Spock had attempted to ignore the fact that he loved these children already, but he could do so no longer. The sudden onset of meningitis had frightened he and Jim so terribly, and their relief at his apparent recovery was so absolute that it would be illogical to deny that they had great affection for Liora and Theodore, whether it was wise to have such ties in their situation or not. Overcome, Spock reached out and stroked Theodore’s soft cheek, his tiny hand, his pudgy leg, and was gladdened when he did not stir.

‘Hey.’

He glanced down at Jim, who sleepily took hold of the hand in his hair and firmly kissed his palm. Spock shuddered, then bent to kiss him on the mouth, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone as he did so.

‘Theo alright?’ Jim asked, when they broke apart. He sat up, leaning most of his weight against Spock as he reached towards the baby.

‘He seems to be improving, though I am not entirely certain due to my lack of neonatal medical knowledge.’

‘Well, he looks better, don’t you, darling?’ Jim pulled the blanket back up over Theodore, who had begun to fuss a little in his sleep. His voice became a coo. ‘Daddy and Sa-mekh love you, baby.’

As he watched his t’hy’la dote on their child, feeling the love and tenderness for them both through the bond, Spock felt like he could contain himself no longer. He turned Jim’s face towards him, pressing their lips together firmly.

_Taluhk nash-veh k’dular._

_Mmm, love you too._

‘ _Holy Jesus,_ can a man not get some sleep without you two ruttin’ into each other by my bedside?’

They broke apart reluctantly, Jim’s hand still resting on Theodore’s socked foot in his cot.

‘We were hardly ‘rutting’, Doctor,’ Spock said indignantly, watching as Leonard sat up on the mattress, expression sour. ‘Would you check on Theodore?’

‘That’s what I’m doin’,’ McCoy drawled, pulling his tricorder out from under his pillow. Spock felt a thrum of anxiety from Jim which echoed his own as the Doctor stood over the crib and passed his tricorder over the sleeping child, his face giving nothing away. He inspected the cannula site, adjusted the tape that held the splint to Theodore’s arm, then moved the blanket away from his stomach to check on the rash, still silent.

‘Bones, for God’s sake,’ Jim burst out, squeezing Spock’s wrist. ‘Is he alright?’

When Leonard nodded, his lips curling into an uncharacteristic smile, the sense of relief that Spock felt was so acute that it was dizzying. All the air in Jim’s lungs seemed to leave him at once, and he leant weakly into Spock, who took his weight easily.

‘If the Ampicillin keeps working like it is now, he’ll be fine, kid. Easy now.’

With Jim absorbed in attempting to flatten the fuzz atop Theodore’s head, Spock spoke for both of them. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

‘Just doin’ my job, Spock. Now, I’m used to stayin’ up ’til my eyeballs bleed – why don’t you two get some sleep while I look out for this little cutie? So long as you promise not to be all gross and touchy. Neither he nor I need to know how much mommy and daddy love each other.’

Spock was prepared to contest the multiple erroneous statements in his speech, but Jim got there first.

‘I’ve told you, I’m not his mommy. But thanks, Bones. Promise we’ll only be a little ‘gross and touchy’.

‘Who said I thought you were the lady?’ McCoy smirked, leaning away from Jim’s swatting hand. ‘Now go to bed, kids. I’ve got him, I promise.’

He sat down on the mattress against the wall and stared pointedly at them. Jim lay down after a final brush of Theodore’s hair, and patted Spock’s leg until he followed, pulling Jim against him. The bond had settled again, once more free of the frenetic emotions that had been ricocheting between them since that morning.

 _I love you,_ Jim murmured, his nuzzling into his neck. Spock could not help but tilt his chin up to press their lips together softly, their kiss slow and lazy.

_And I you, t’hy’la._

‘Oh my God, stop neckin’ and _go to sleep.’_

Believing it unwise to continue to antagonise Leonard, they promptly complied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I did that to the baby, guys. I had a hard time writing this chapter, but it's where the story needed to go. I really hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a comment to let me know what you think - it's such a confidence boost, believe me, and I appreciate every one :) Also, you can always find me over at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), where I post a lot of trek stuff :)
> 
> Translations: 'Maut rom, pi’veh' - very good, little one  
> ‘Bes-tor wuh'ashiv?’ - draw another?  
> 'Ha.' - yes  
> 'slor-veh' - sweet one  
> 'sa-fu' - son  
> 'sa-telsu' - husband


	15. Our Fearful Trip Is Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No gore in this chapter, guys!

Stardate 2261.76. 1350 hours. KL interviewing PAC.

Pavel Andreievich Chekov is not who I expected from Jim's description of his brilliant navigator. Barely twenty years old, he has a mop of curly blond hair and a baby face which makes him look even younger. Born in the Tverskoy district of Moscow, he has a strong lingering Eastern European accent, and a speech impediment which often turns the letter ‘v’ into ‘w’. Thankfully, after a lifetime of practice, this does not affect the saying of his own name. Unlike most of his fellow crewmembers, Chekov does not seem initially hostile, and instead happily chatters away about anything and everything: the virus-riddled planet he has escaped, his boyfriend, and his country, which he clearly loves. Russia has since been discovered to contain the highest number of uninfected souls on the planet, which does not surprise me. Between the bitter cold and resistance to adversity built up through generations of poor government, the Russians are a hardy people. And, fortunately, the majority of Pavel’s family is part of that surviving population.

I hear that you’ve had some good news.

PAC: _[He grins, nodding so enthusiastically that his hair bounces.]_ Da! My parents and sisters and all my little nieces and cousins are okay!

That’s fantastic! What are you going to do after all this? Go home?

_[The smile dies, replaced by a gentle frown.]_

PAC: Mama wants me to. She wants me to be safe, but where is safe? I would have imagined my home in Moscow to be so before the Plague. My family, they moved out to Siberia when it got bad, and that’s how they survived. Siberia is wery, wery cold. People freeze there if they’re not careful, but so do corpses. Who is to say that it won’t happen again?

I should hope that we’d be luckier than that.

PAC: I hope so too. My parents are coming to wisit once they have been tested for the wirus. After that, I am going into space. It is what I have wanted to do since I was child, and I know that I am good enough to be on the Enterprise. I wish to serve under Keptin Kirk. Also… I do not wish to leave Hikaru.

_[He blushes brightly, which I can’t help but find adorable.]_

Tell me about him.

PAC: He’s a helmsman – a Lieutenant.

Aren’t you an Ensign?

PAC: Yes. Well, sort of. The Admiral and the Keptin gave us those titles when we first set off for the Enterprise. Hikaru is wery clewer, and wery good at his job. He is a fencer too, and he loves plants. _[He smiles, eyes unfocused.]_ He likes to give me the pretty ones to put in my room.

That’s sweet. How long have you known him?

PAC: Since we were at the Academy. When things got bad, his parents were on holiday in France, and it was too late for me to go home to Russia. We stayed on campus because we didn’t know what else to do.

And what happened then?

PAC: After a while, we started seeing live people, not just Ferals. Some cadets were coming back because they had gone home and found their families dead or gone, others had stayed right through, like us. Then Pike arrived, and helped organise us. We cleared the campus, set up barricades, and then tried to figure out what to do.

How long was it before you met Jim and the others?

PAC: Not long. Maybe two months. More people were arriving every day – some of them with spouses or children, and we didn’t have a plan yet. We were letting people in at a checkpoint, and this time, Hikaru and I were on duty. It was a little tiny entrance to campus, accessible from quiet roads. This ancient car pulled up, and out came a wery strange group of people.

They managed to get through San Francisco in a _car?_

PAC: Da. Like I said, it was a quiet route, and the Infected had begun to fan out to find more people to eat.

How did you react when you saw them?

PAC: I was a little… surprised, I guess. But to me, they were just another group to take in. Hikaru, though – Hikaru knew Jim and Leonard.

* * *

Up until five minutes ago, all Pavel could think about was the fact that Mr. Scott had managed to key borscht into the replicators. Now he was watching his best friend – who would hopefully be more than that one day – leave his side at the second set of gates and sprint up to a very attractive blond man, hugging him tightly despite the toddler perched on his hip.

‘Holy shit, Jim, I thought you were dead! And Leonard, oh my God!’

He grabbed a tall, dark-haired man next, but Pavel was distracted by the next person to get out of the car - a Vulcan cradling a baby in a blanket. That was something you didn’t see every day. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he recognised the Vulcan from somewhere… As he squinted, trying to place him in his memory, two ladies appeared; one was dark-skinned and beautiful, the other slightly older, with a kind face and pretty eyes.

‘Pasha, come over here!’ Hikaru laughed, gesturing to him. Glancing briefly at the other two cadets on duty, he complied, curious about these people that Hikaru evidently knew. ‘Guys, this is Pavel Chekov-’

‘Pavel Andreievich,’ he corrected, delighting in Hikaru’s fond smile.

‘Sorry, buddy. Pavel _Andreievich_ Chekov. He was at the Academy too.’

‘Yeah, you mentioned him enough,’ the affable blond-haired man grinned, which made Hikaru flush and Pavel’s heart skip. He stepped forwards, offering up the hand which wasn’t supporting the little girl. ‘I’m Jim Kirk.’

He had a firm handshake, Pavel noted, and a smile so dazzling that he felt slightly dazed in its wake.

‘Nice to meet you, Meester Kirk.’

‘And you. Please, call me Jim.’

Pavel nodded, and as he stepped back, he looked to the rest of the group, wondering about the children.

‘Sorry, I should probably introduce everyone, shouldn’t I?’ Jim said, smiling as his eyes flicked to the Vulcan and back. ‘Okay, so, from the left. This is Doctor Leonard McCoy – Hikaru already knows him from a crossover class. Nyota Uhura – she was a cadet too, specialising in xenolinguistics. This is Amanda Grayson – she’s a teacher and a damn good linguist…’

They each nodded or smiled at him as he eyed them in turn, but his attention was caught by Jim’s next words.

‘And she also happens to be Spock’s mother.’

‘Aha!’ Pavel burst out, making the little girl start and the others stare. He flushed, sheepishly avoiding eye contact. ‘I am sorry. It is just that I knew I recognised you from somewhere, sir. You are Commander Spock, yes?’

His classes had been infamous for their difficulty, and for their solemn, strict teacher. The Vulcan was still very intimidating, even with a tiny infant cradled in his arms. Pavel held his breath as dark eyes bored into his.

‘Indeed,’ Spock confirmed, his gaze moving to the baby as it burbled. ‘Although I am not certain how much merit that title now holds.’

‘And the kids?’ Hikaru asked, reaching out to chuck the cheek of the little girl, who hid her face shyly against Jim’s chest.

‘Long story short,’ Leonard interjected, pointing first to Jim, then to Spock. ‘These two are bonded, and the kids are theirs. Mind you, the amount of time I’ve spent treating the littlest one recently, you’d think he was mine.’

Frowning, Pavel opened his mouth to question them further, but was interrupted by Hikaru’s indignant cry of –

‘You got married _without_ me?’

_‘Bonded,_ not married,’ Jim corrected, indulging the girl’s squirming by bouncing her on his hip. He smiled as he presented two fingers to Spock in an unfamiliar gesture that was matched by the Vulcan. ‘Anyway, it’s a pretty recent development, Hikaru. I thought you were dead. I’m glad you’re not.’

‘Me too, Jim. What are their names? And I’m pretty sure even Vulcans can’t pop kids out in – what – four months? So what’s the story there?’

‘This is Liora, and that’s Theo,’ Jim said, stroking a gentle finger over the waving fist of the baby. ‘Their mother… passed away, and we took them.’

The little girl was still partially hiding her face, but Pavel could see one large, sad eye peeking out at him.

‘I am sorry, myshka,’ Pavel murmured. She looked at him for a moment longer, then burrowed back into Jim’s chest. ‘May I hold the baby? I have many little cousins, so I know how to.’

He had been trying not to think about Katya and Nikolai and the others, because it hurt. He and Hikaru had seen their world fall apart in a matter of days, and he knew nothing of what had happened to his family, though he knew what probability would suggest. Forcing that deep-running pain beneath a bright smile, he watched hopefully as Jim and Spock exchanged a look.

‘You may if you are careful,’ Spock told him, holding Theo out. The baby squawked as he was handed over, a high, sharp sound of protest at his transferral, but settled into Pavel’s arms easily enough. ‘He recently contracted bacterial meningitis, and his health may still be compromised.’

‘Of course,’ Pavel said softly, rocking the baby gently from side to side as he cooed and kicked, looking perfectly well. Though they didn’t seem hostile, he could feel his parents watching closely, and while there was no obvious change in Jim’s expression when he handed Theo back to Spock, Pavel could clearly sense his relief.

‘Well, it’s very nice to meet both of you,’ Amanda offered. ‘Old friends are like gold dust now.’

‘Speaking of which - I don’t suppose you know anything about Christine Chapel or Janice Rand?’ Nyota asked, and Pavel smiled, happy to oblige.

‘Christine and Janice are here. They arrived last week!’

‘Oh my God,’ Jim grinned, thumping Nyota playfully on the arm. ‘What are the odds?’

‘Everyone’s coming home, I guess,’ she said, lips curving into an unconvincing smile. ‘Gaila?’

Hikaru shook his head.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I-It’s fine,’ she murmured, folding her arms against her chest. It clearly wasn’t. Pavel saw Jim’s previously amiable expression become grim with a flash of unease.

‘Tell me. What’s left?’

Hikaru let out a humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. Pavel hated to see him so despondent, especially as he had comforted him so much during those terrible early weeks, when he had wondered if it was only the two of them left in the whole world. When Pavel had woken in the middle of the night, convinced that everyone he had ever known and loved had died, Hikaru had been there to pick up the pieces, always making sure he fell asleep again first, always there to comfort him when the nightmares left him in tears.

‘We’re a bit of a mess, but we’re doing the best we can. There’s about a hundred and fifty of us now, including a load of straggling family members. But there’s someone who I think you’ll be pretty pleased to see. Come on – I’ll get someone to bring the car and your stuff in.’

‘Who?’ Jim demanded, throwing Hikaru the keys as they walked. Pavel and the others trailed behind them as they set off towards the newly-constructed gate, which replaced the precarious barricade that had been hastily cobbled together by a group of cadets from this side of campus.

‘Be patient, Kirk, you’ll see.’

Patel and Mancini, the other two cadets on duty, re-opened the gate as the group approached.

‘The next shift starts in five – will you two be alright if I take them in? And can you get somebody to bring the car to Delta Block? I think that’s where they’ll be staying.’

‘Sure,’ Mancini replied, taking the keys off him. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Leonard. ‘Hey, I recognise you.’

‘That’s probably because I pumped your stomach last year after you passed out in a pool of your own vomit. Stay away from the Romulan Ale, y’hear?’

Mancini went bright red, mumbling her agreement as she turned back to the gate.

‘Bonesy, that was mean.’

‘No it wasn’t. One upside to the zombie apocalypse is that I’m pretty sure people won’t be drinking themselves silly half as much. Or if they do, they’ll probably get eaten before they can blow chunks all over me.’

‘I’d just like to remind you that you vomited all over me the first time we met.’

‘And you’ve done it on me countless times since. Besides, that wasn’t because of booze – that was because we were in a shuttle that could have crashed and burned at any moment.’

Pavel tuned them out as he dropped back to where Nyota and Amanda were bringing up the group, convinced that he recognised the former from somewhere, even though they hadn’t shared any classes.

‘Where did you go when you left the Academy?’ he asked, curious about the state of the outside world.

‘Spock and I went to Des Moines, where we knew Amanda was. Jim and Leonard, though…’

‘They went to New York to try and find Leonard’s daughter before they came to us,’ Amanda continued, lowering the volume of her voice. ‘Unfortunately, they found her turned.’

Pavel’s stomach twisted, his vision blurring briefly as he considered the nauseating possibility of the same thing having happened to his cousins, torturing himself by imagining all the ways they could have been caught unawares.

‘That is terrible,’ he eventually managed, nodding a greeting to Lewinsky as they passed the clinic, currently void of doctors apart from M’Benga, who had returned from Vulcan a month before the virus hit. ‘It is bad out there, yes?’

‘It isn’t exactly pleasant,’ Amanda said quietly.

‘Pasha, c’mere.’ Hikaru was gesturing to him from the front of the group, so with an affable shrug, Pavel jogged up to his side. ‘Do you remember which office he’s moved into?’

‘Da. Ground floor, Room 5A. Tomasz told me yesterday.’

They entered what had previously been the administrative headquarters in a clumsy line. It was still strange to see the place so barren when it had previously been teeming with life, the empty hallways and the audible echo of footsteps on tile yet another unfamiliarity that made Pavel’s heart squeeze. The door to Room 5A was typically metallic and blank, displaying no signs of occupancy, but Hikaru knocked anyway, and it seemed that they were in luck.

‘Come in.’

At the Captain’s instruction, Jim let out a strangled gasp, and when Pavel turned to look at him, his eyes were wide and wet. Spock was watching him intently, the way a person did when speaking, but his mouth didn’t move. Smiling, Hikaru led the way in, opening the door just enough that he could slip through.

‘Captain, there are some new people here to see you.’

‘Great, send ’em in.’

Hikaru grabbed Pavel’s arm, pulling him in and off to the side of the office as the door opened fully, and the others piled in. In uniform, sans hat, Captain Pike looked up from his desk, his expression weary. When he saw the newest arrivals, Pavel saw him smile for the first time since he had arrived.

‘Jim Kirk.’ A bark of disbelieving laughter left his mouth as he rounded the desk and drew Jim and a befuddled Liora into his arms, squeezing until the little girl made a sound of displeasure. Drawing back, he reached out, sweeping her hair back from her face. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to squish you. Jim, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.’

‘Chris,’ Jim said, and it sounded like he might cry, the name a hoarse whisper on his lips. Pike cupped the back of his neck and hugged him again, one-armed so as to avoid the child, fingers threading through the hair at his nape.

‘It’s alright, son. You’re alright.’

Something lightened in Pavel to see Hikaru’s friend find his family, a burden that he had been carrying around with him since the day the communications network shut down. He and Hikaru exchanged a smile, their shoulders brushing together ever so slightly, but he was so hyperaware of their proximity, just that gentle graze was enough to make him shiver. Leaning subtly into Hikaru to try and touch him again, Pavel watched as Pike pulled back with an affectionate smile, and promptly froze.

‘Spock? God, I had blinker vision – I only saw Jim!’

Pavel’s eyes widened as he pulled the upright Vulcan, baby and all, into a hug, slapping him on the back for good measure. Spock endured the contact with no protestations, but the little one wasn’t quite so placid. After a weak, threatening whine, he balled his tiny fists and began to cry in earnest. Pavel winced as Pike backed away, and Theo hit his full stride, wailing his lungs out.

‘Oh dear. I’m not doing fantastically well on the kiddie front today, am I?’

Spock shook his head, bringing the baby up to rest vertically against his chest, a hand under his blanketed bottom. Jim let Liora down when she squirmed to be set free, and once she was on the floor, she toddled over towards Pavel. He found himself being stared at from knee-height, the unblinking gaze of a toddler familiar, if a little disconcerting. When she reached up to him, Pavel made sure to get Jim’s silent approval before swinging her up to rest on his hip, her hands going immediately to play with his hair.

‘He is unsettled at the moment, for obvious reasons.’

‘Whose are they?’ Pike asked, his voice pitched low to cut through the wailing. ‘And who are your friends?’

Before Spock or Jim could answer, Amanda stepped forward, holding her hand out for Pike to take.

‘I’m Amanda Grayson, Spock’s mother.’ Pike seemed startled, his end of the handshake looking rather weak compared to hers. ‘This is Nyota Uhura, and Doctor Leonard McCoy, both of whom attended the Academy.’

‘Ah… linguistics, right?’ Pike asked, directing his question at Nyota.

‘Yes, sir. Xenolinguistics.’

‘And a doctor – well, you’re a godsend. M’Benga is rushed off his feet, and so are the nurses. There are quite a few sick people at the moment.’

‘Yeah, I bet there is,’ Leonard growled, picking his Medikit up off the floor. ‘Bet they’ve picked up all kinds of parasites on the way here. Jim, I’m goin’ to help out in the clinic. Spock, look after him.’

‘Jeez, who are you, my mother?’

‘Yeah, now do as mommy says and _be good.’_

Childishly, Jim stuck his tongue out at Leonard as he left, but when Theo’s screeching reached a new level of loud, his petulant expression morphed into one of clear parental affection. As if he and his bondmate had already spoken, Jim reached for Theo just as Spock held him out; a strangely effortless transfer.

‘Shhh, baby,’ he crooned, cradling the tiny capped head in his hand as he swayed. ‘Daddy’s here.’

Sweet though the baby was, Pavel was glad when his ear-splitting cries died down, replaced by the occasional whimper.

‘They’re… yours?’ Pike asked, eyebrows raised.

‘Yeah. Well, they _were_ someone else’s, but-… can we talk about this later, maybe?’ Jim’s eyes flicked from Pike to the little girl in Pavel’s arms, who wriggled until he let her down. ‘I don’t want Liora upset.’

Pike nodded, smiling fondly at her as she ran and hid behind Spock’s leg, whose hand came down to rest atop her head.

‘Sure we can. I’d like you and Spock to come back this evening, 1930 if that’s alright. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Chekov, Sulu, you’re in my block too, right?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Hikaru replied. ‘Delta Block.’

‘Take them there to settle in, please,’ Pike instructed, authority returning to his voice, though he seemed much less miserable than Pavel had previously seen him. ‘Cadet Uhura, Mrs Grayson, it’s nice to meet you. And - Jim, Spock - it’s very good to see you two.’

‘Likewise,’ Spock said softly, flattening Liora’s hair down where it threatened to rise.

Hikaru led the way through the door, Pavel, Nyota and Amanda following closely behind, but Jim and Spock lingered for a moment with the children.

‘Say bye-bye to Uncle Chris,’ Pavel heard, and he saw Pike’s face contort through the gap between Jim and Spock.

_‘Uncle Chris?’_

‘Fine,’ Jim huffed. ‘Say bye-bye to _Grandad,_ Liora.’

The little girl was clutching Spock’s trouser leg, her thumb in her mouth, but she removed it long enough to speak.

‘Bye-bye, Ganda.’

Jim cackled as Pike’s expression of dismay became one of horror, and clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Cemented your fate now, Chris. See you later.’

He was still laughing when the door closed behind him, Theo, though resting against his heaving chest, seeming relatively undisturbed.

‘Liora, honey, if you’re walking you need to hold Sa-mekh’s hand or my hand-’ Liora made her decision by grabbing both, tugging Jim downwards slightly with the force of her pull. Spock, naturally, remained upright, though his eyebrow did twitch. ‘Oh, okay.’

‘She’s got you both wrapped around her little finger,’ Hikaru grinned, letting him leave the administrative block first with a theatrical flourish. It made Pavel’s heart flutter, and he cursed his own pathetic longing for making such a simple consideration seem like a romantic gesture.

‘She’s got us all wrapped around her little finger,’ Nyota corrected, her deadpan tone at odds with the small upwards curve of her lips. ‘Once we’re settled, I want to see Janice and Christine.’

Pavel understood her urgency keenly – if he found out that any of his other friends were alive, he’d be champing at the bit to go and meet them. Unfortunately, it might not be under the best of circumstances.

‘The good news is, you’ll be able to see them at the same time,’ he offered, aware that what was coming next might be upsetting.

‘Why? I know Chrissie’s a nurse, but..?’

Pavel hesitated, finding it particularly difficult to begin when both Nyota and Jim were watching him, obviously invested in her wellbeing. Brushing a hand against his shoulder blade, Hikaru took over, for which he was immeasurably grateful.

‘Janice went into renal failure at the worst possible time. Obviously, Christine knew what to do, but she didn’t have any equipment or a place of safety to fix her up. She’s gonna be okay, but they’re keeping her asleep for a while.’

There was a long silence, before Jim broke it with a shaky exhalation.

‘God,’ he whispered, grief heavy in his voice. Pavel didn’t turn to look at him, nor at Nyota. He supposed that was cowardly, but he had enough pain of his own to deal with without absorbing anybody else’s. There was no more conversation until they reached Delta Block, as Jim and Nyota absorbed the information they’d just been given, and the others had tact enough not to interrupt them. The block was largely empty, only containing Captain Pike, Pavel and Hikaru – who had been there already when Pike arrived – and a few lone Starfleet employees, including one Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott. Who, upon their entrance to the building, promptly accosted them in the foyer.

‘I heard there were new people,’ he said brightly, something that Pavel knew to be a stripped communicator, but was now unidentifiable, waving about in his hand, ‘but nobody said there were bairns as well!’

Covered in some kind of grease, a manic grin on his face, Pavel supposed that he looked rather unhinged – and so did Spock, considering the way he drew Liora – and subsequently, Jim – closer to him. Before any wrong first impressions could be made, he decided to intervene.

‘This is Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott – he is a wery good engineer.’

‘Thanks for sayin’ so!’ Scotty grinned, shoving the remnants of the communicator deep into his pocket. ‘You guys can call me Scotty. And this? This is Keenser.’

He bent down and pulled a short, squat alien out from inside an access shaft by his ankles. This elicited a round of angry, unintelligible muttering, and Pavel winced at the sharp kick delivered to Scotty’s shin as Keenser got to his feet.

‘Ow! Don’t get arsey with me, raisin face – you’re bein’ rude!’

As Keenser’s chest puffed out in a way that was reminiscent of an angry bird, Pavel hastily made the introductions, pointing out everyone by name. Keenser nodded, stoic as usual, and Scotty smiled, his eyes lingering on Nyota. Pavel couldn’t blame him for doing so – she was beautiful – but he’d never noticed Scotty paying real attention to a woman before.

‘Lovely to meet you all,’ Scotty said pleasantly. ‘I’d shake your hands but I’m covered in grease.’

‘Yeah, I’m not sure Spock would appreciate that,’ Jim laughed, shooting Spock a sideways look. ‘It’s great to meet you, Scotty, Keenser, but I’d like to get the kids settled in. We’ll see you later?’

‘Sure,’ Scotty replied, and Keenser nodded, his beady black eyes unreadable to Pavel. Hikaru opened the connecting door to the corridor and gestured the group through, holding it open with his back.

‘If you wanna be close to Pike, he’s second on the left just here. Pavel and I are down the corridor in 8. Car’s outside so we can bring your stuff in once you’ve picked your rooms.’

‘Thanks, man.’

Jim clapped Hikaru on the back, letting go of Liora’s hand so that Spock could swing her up into his arms. Once the connecting door had swung closed, the others visible through the glass as they began to settle in, Scotty nudged Pavel.

‘Who’s that lovely lass? I’m no good with names.’

‘Amanda, or Nyota?’

‘Well, they’re both lovely, but I was talking about Nyota,’ Scotty said wistfully, staring through the glass as he wiped his hands off on a rag. Keenser made a sputtering noise, hands on his hips. ‘Don’t look at me like that, you wee monster. You jealous?’

The face Keenser made forced Pavel to stifle a bubble of laughter, at once indignant and disgusted. Scotty hastily changed the subject.

‘Don’t they have anythin’ to carry the babe in?’

‘Don’t think so,’ Hikaru shrugged. ‘You gonna make them something?’

‘Mmm, might do.’

As usual, Pavel found himself watching Hikaru while they waited for the others to return. His hands moved so fluidly as he spoke with Scotty, it was almost hypnotising. Their words were lost to Pavel as he concentrated on the timbre of Hikaru’s voice, warm and soft, washing over him pleasantly in the absence of comprehension. A sudden pain in his foot brought the conversation back into sharp focus, and when he looked down to see what had caused it, he found only Keenser, eyebrow ridge raised in either surprise or mockery.

‘Заткнись,’ Pavel said sullenly.

Keenser snorted in reply, wandering over to the access shaft and promptly crawling back inside.

After the group’s meagre belongings were brought inside, consisting mainly of tinned food, baby paraphernalia, and the odd personal trinket, Pavel and Hikaru led Jim and Nyota to the clinic. Pavel hadn’t known Jim long enough to be certain of his usual temperament, but from what he had seen in the past hour or so, he had expected more extraversion than this. As they approached the clinic, Jim had become more and more subdued, Hikaru and Nyota both shooting him concerned glances, filling the silence with struggling small talk. Jim connected them both, but he wasn’t easing the way at the moment, his quiet, one-word answers doing little to remove the awkwardness from the situation.

The clinic was only a few minutes away from Delta Block, which wasn’t pure coincidence. Captain Pike had wanted to keep everything as centralised as possible, to base the remnants of the Academy cadets and their traumatised families together in the most convenient place. Medical care was within easy reach from the dormitories, and families with children had been placed in Gamma Block, which was closer still. All families apart from Jim’s, at least. Pike obviously wanted to keep them close, and seemed extremely happy to see him – which both confused and pleased Pavel. He knew that Spock and Pike had worked together before everything went to hell, but he didn’t understand the connection with Jim. Still, he wasn’t going to question anything that made Pike smile, especially considering the circumstances in which he had arrived.

Pavel, prone to inappropriate, and occasionally hysterical, giggle fits, fought to contain his nervous laughter as they walked through the clinic door, the citrus smell of medical-grade bleach assaulting his nostrils. Having previously visited Janice with Hikaru, he knew that she was settled in one of the few private rooms, monitored obsessively by Christine. Seeing Nyota begin to fidget out of the corner of his eye, Pavel led them there quickly, but before he could knock on the door, it opened to reveal Doctor McCoy.

‘I could hear you both frettin’ from a mile away,’ he drawled, ushering them in.

Hikaru and Pavel trailed behind, hovering near the doorway as Jim and Nyota approached the bed in which Janice was lying, her face grey and slack, long blonde hair fanned out over the pillow. Christine Chapel was standing over her, her back to the door, and she appeared not to have noticed their entrance judging by her lack of reaction. Although he didn’t know either of them very well, he knew that it hurt Hikaru to see Janice in this way, so when he was sure nobody was looking, Pavel curled his fingers around his wrist, squeezing gently. Hikaru didn’t pull away.

‘Chrissie,’ Nyota said softly, her eyes wide and tearful as she reached out to her, hand hovering in the air mere inches from her shoulder. With a choked sob, Christine whirled round and threw herself into Nyota’s arms, freeing an arm to pull Jim in when he got near enough. They swayed unsteadily in a huddle, as Leonard made adjustments to Janice’s IV line, and Pavel grew brave enough to let his little finger stroke the base of Hikaru’s palm where it met his wrist.

‘God, I’m so glad to see you guys,’ Christine wept, her voice clogged with tears. ‘It’s been so awful, and I thought- I thought-’

‘I know.’ Jim’s reply was rough as he pulled away, his hand squeezing her shoulder before dropping to his side. ‘It’s really tough right now… what?’

Her brow furrowing, she reached up and angled his face to her liking, squinting at the scar spanning his cheek.

‘How did you get that?’

‘Glass,’ Jim replied vaguely, allowing her to twist his face this way and that, examining the scar under the light.

‘Why didn’t you fix him up?’ she asked Doctor McCoy accusatorily. ‘You had a dermal regenerator, didn’t you?’

Jim gently took hold of her wrists and detached her hands from his face, eyes flicking to Leonard and back. Remembering what Amanda had told him about the man’s daughter, Pavel’s stomach twisted. Leonard’s expression did not change, but there was a subtle tremor in his hands as he bent over Janice, there one moment, gone the next.

‘It’s not important, Chrissie, don’t worry. How’s Janice?’

‘It’s looking like she’s gonna be okay,’ Leonard interrupted, straightening. ‘I do need to discuss further treatment with Christine though, so if you guys could just-’

‘I don’t mind them being here, Leonard,’ Christine said softly, catching his arm.

Pavel shifted from foot to foot, knowing that he wasn’t close enough to either of them to stay, but found the thought of saying so deeply uncomfortable. Just as he was about to speak up, Hikaru beat him to it.

‘Look, Pavel and I should be going. We said we’d help Scotty with something. Do you guys remember the way back?’

Jim nodded, lips forming a quick smile.

‘Thanks for helping us out before. We’ll see you later, yeah?’

‘Sure,’ Hikaru replied, guiding Pavel out with a hand on his back that seemed to burn through his clothing. ‘Let me know how everything goes. Bye, guys.’

Pavel and the others exchanged their own parting words, Hikaru slightly ahead of him as the door closed behind them. He waited until they were almost to the clinic door before addressing the obvious.

‘Meester Scott did not ask for our help.’

‘I know,’ Hikaru mumbled, leading him outside.

The sky above San Francisco was one of the few things that hadn’t changed, the sun beating down with an intensity that made Pavel begin to sweat instantly, fabric sticky beneath his arms. Longing for the cold relief of a summer in Moscow, he focused his attention back on Hikaru, who was staring at the ground as he walked.

‘Why did you lie?’

‘Because… Oh, Pavel, I’m being pathetic,’ Hikaru moaned, pulling a hand roughly through his hair. ‘I know Doctor McCoy said that it’s good news, but what if Janice doesn’t get better? We’ve lost so much already - I can’t stand there and watch another person die.’

Pavel swung round in front of him, and caught hold of his forearms. Behind Hikaru’s left shoulder, he could see some of the older children playing football, closely supervised by a few adults dotted around the makeshift pitch. Though campus certainly wasn’t as it had been, and never would be, seeing it gave him hope.

‘It is not pathetic,’ he soothed, hands briefly tightening. ‘It is difficult enough to know that our families are probably gone. It is worse to see it happening. However, I am sure that Doctor McCoy is right, and that Janice will be okay.’

Hikaru smiled, his eyes wide and soft.

‘Thanks, Pasha.’

‘You are welcome,’ Pavel grinned, letting go of his arms. ‘We should go and see Meester Scott now, yes? We must fulfil our alibi.’

Body uncurled a little from the miserable, defensive posture he had previously been sporting, Hikaru laughed as he led the way over to Delta Block. Pavel relished the sound. If their appearance made Hikaru happy, he would welcome Jim Kirk and his family with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sloooowly getting round the main players, and it's Chekov's turn this chapter! He's so cute :D Really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please do leave a comment if you did - they're very motivating, and I'm grateful for each and every one! You can catch me over at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you need me, and I hope everyone has a good weekend :D


	16. What Stays; What Fades Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looong chapter this time, guys! There's explicit sexual content too - just a warning. Enjoy :)

Stardate 2261.77. 0845 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

This morning, Jim comes alone, coffee firmly in hand, bruise-black circles beneath his eyes. At first, I’m concerned for his health, though he reassured me that everything is fine. ‘Fine’ is a nothing word, in my humble opinion. If he isn’t ill – and he may well be lying, or in denial – I have my suspicions about something else. When the Federation Council decided to shut down the communications network, purportedly for security reasons, but really to prevent agonised cries for help from leading any of those off-planet to protest the quarantine decision, the security locks on many classified Starfleet documents were broken. The furore which this caused was incredible, yet while those who remained attempted frantically to prevent damaging information from getting into the hands of the Klingons, some things slipped through the cracks. For example, reports regarding the colony on Tarsus IV, and the uncensored personal file of James Tiberius Kirk, which I had downloaded upon his arrival at the Starbase, but never read. Until last night.

So if you’re not ill, what is it? You look exhausted. Did you fight with Spock?

_[He shakes his head sharply, glowering.]_

JK: _[belligerently]_ I’m _fine._ Sometimes I don’t sleep so well. Never really have done.

Nightmares? Or insomnia?

JK: Both. _[He takes a sip of his coffee, avoiding my eyes as his tone softens.]_ Both.

What do you have nightmares about, Jim?

JK: All sorts of things. We’ve just come out of a fucking nightmare – are you surprised we’re all a little messed up?

Not at all. But the fact that you said you’ve always had difficulty sleeping suggests that it’s not just what you’ve experienced over the past three years that’s causing a problem.

_[Jim narrows his eyes, remaining stubbornly silent.]_

I’m going to be frank with you, Jim. I downloaded your file a while back, but I only read it last night – and what I read… what I read disturbed me. I didn’t know that you had been on Tarsus IV.

_[His face pales so quickly that I’m worried he might faint. His lips are bloodless, his voice a whisper.]_

JK: I fixed that. I fixed that years ago.

Everything reset itself when the communications network was taken offline.

_[He appears to be struggling with the revelation, hands fisting in his trouser fabric.]_

JK: _[flatly]_ So it’s out there for anyone to read.

I doubt anyone has apart from me. I’m sorry, Jim.

JK: For what?

For the fact that you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how you must still be suffering-

JK: _Stop. [He chokes on the word.]_ Just… enough, alright?

_[He is breathing heavily, hands trembling until he pushes them harder into his thighs. We both start when the door clicks open and Spock enters, eyes settling immediately on Jim. Jim smiles weakly, the tension in him easing.]_

JK: I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry.

_[They lock eyes for a moment longer, their communication beyond me, then Spock nods at me, and leaves.]_

JK: Can we please talk about something else?

Sure. I was going to ask you how you felt when you saw that the Academy was still functioning in some form.

JK: It was as much of a relief as I could feel back then. More importantly than that, though, most of my friends were still alive, when I’d been sure they were dead. I can’t describe what it was like to see them again.

_[Jim’s smile this time is true, eyes bright with some unnamed emotion.]_

JK: It was worth all the worry, a hundred times over.

* * *

Jim took his time on the way back to Delta Block. With Nyota staying behind at Janice’s bedside for a while longer, the solitude allowed him to process the events of the day, which – if Spock hadn’t been there to confirm – he might have thought he’d hallucinated. The hard knot of pain that had insinuated itself in his stomach had begun to unravel with the revelation that his friends were alive, that Chris, the closest thing he’d ever had to a father, was _alive,_ and Jim felt light-headed with joy. Just as he could never have hoped for a partner as wonderful as Spock, he had never dreamed that so many of the people he cared about would have survived in this hell. Even better, Janice was going to make a full recovery, according to Bones, and Bones was almost never wrong.

As he neared Delta Block, Jim allowed a surge of love to filter through the bond, his heart so full with it, his chest felt like bursting.

_I presume that you have good news, t’hy’la,_ Spock said warmly, his own returning affection breath-taking in its intensity.

_Bones says she’s gonna be okay, but it was a close thing. Kids alright?_

The foyer of the block was empty when Jim arrived, though he could see signs of whatever Scotty and Keenser had been doing before, the panel that should cover the access shaft leant against the wall next to it, various tools scattered across the floor.

_They are both sleeping peacefully._

_They must be exhausted, poor things,_ Jim said fondly, already halfway down the corridor. _I’m here, love, let me in._

As soon as the door was halfway open, Jim slipped through the gap, pushing down on the release button to close it behind him. He reached for Spock, cradling his cheeks and feeling strong arms pull tight around him as he brought their lips together in a long, languid kiss, letting his tongue slip into Spock’s welcoming mouth. Despite how much Spock had gained in confidence in their relationship, Jim knew he was still a little shy with kissing, so he shivered in delight when Spock began suckling on his tongue, biting gently at his lower lip before soothing it with his own. Jim was half-hard by the time they parted, the situation definitely not helped by the sight of Spock’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

‘I love you,’ he murmured, pressing one last warm kiss against Spock’s pliant mouth.

‘As I love you, ashayam.’

Trailing a finger over the point of Spock’s ear, Jim wandered through into the adjoining room and found the children sleeping soundly, just as Spock had said. While Gamma Block was generally where cadets with families stayed, Delta contained mostly visitors’ suites, which often had connecting bedrooms. Jim didn’t want to wake them, so he merely pulled Liora’s blankets up to her chin and kissed Theo’s forehead, grateful that the sickly pallor he had so recently sported was gone. Something caught his eye beside Theo’s cot as he straightened, and he picked it up, squinting in the dark at the rectangular box, until his thumb ran over what seemed to be an audio grid. A baby monitor?

Clipping it back onto the cot, Jim wandered back into his room and found Spock sat on the bed holding the other, contentment softening his features, and rippling through their connection.

‘Where did you get them from?’

‘Mr Scott assembled them,’ Spock replied, pointing to a strange length of fabric folded over the back of the room’s chair. ‘Along with that.’

Jim unfolded it, holding it out in front of him.

‘A sling could come in useful. I’ll have to thank him – we’ve been here a day and he’s making things for the baby.’

‘I have already thanked him on behalf of us both, but I am sure he will appreciate a second show of appreciation.’

Jim wasn’t sure which one of them reached out first, but somehow, their hands were twined together, and Spock pulled him forward until he was in his lap, their foreheads touching. Spock’s hair was mussed from their kiss earlier, when Jim had sunk his hands into it in pleasure, and he did so again, loving the silken feel of it between his fingers. He skimmed his nose against Spock’s cheekbone, then pressed a kiss there, beginning a trail down to his jaw where he nuzzled into the soft skin beside his earlobe, before taking it gently between his teeth. Spock moaned so quietly it was barely a vibration in his throat, but Jim heard it all the same. He released Spock’s ear, hiding a wicked smile in his neck before pressing a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses against his neck, feeling his cock begin to stir once more.

When he pulled back, there was a pretty flush across Spock’s cheeks, a hazy pleasure melting across the bond, and Jim couldn’t help but kiss him sweetly.

_How about I, uh,_ show my appreciation _for you, sweetheart?_

Spock allowed Jim to kick his boots off and lay him down on the bed, his expression open and trusting.

_I would not be adverse to that idea, t’hy’la,_ he said, entirely too composed for Jim’s liking, _but the children…_

‘Will be fine,’ Jim whispered, getting up to turn the lock on the bedroom door before returning and straddling his prone body. ‘Can you hear them both?’

Spock tilted his head towards the baby monitor on the bedside table, and nodded, running his hands up Jim’s denim-covered thighs.

_Their breathing is even._

‘Good,’ Jim purred, rubbing his crotch against the bulge in Spock’s trousers, moaning soft and low. Spock was panting, that delicious flush deepening, and Jim needed to see more skin, _now._ Curling his fingers beneath the hem of both the jumper and the t-shirt Spock was wearing, he waited for approval through the bond before moving the fabric slowly upwards, pressing kisses against the soft hair on Spock’s belly, his ribcage, his sternum. Spock squirmed, hips undulating into any part of Jim he could touch, and in return, Jim cupped his cock and squeezed. Spock’s breathy whine was more than enough reward for Jim, who found himself humping the air, his pants feeling increasingly tight. He skimmed his hands over Spock’s chest, absent-mindedly thumbing over a nipple, when Spock’s sudden jerk reminded him of something.

_Sensitive here, aren’t you, darling?_

Before Spock could reply, Jim leant down and dragged the flat of his tongue over his left nipple, staring up into desire-filled eyes.

**_Jim,_** Spock choked, clutching at his hair in a grip just shy of painful as Jim sealed his lips around the areola and began to suck in long, slow pulls, pausing occasionally to flick his tongue back and forth over the nipple. As Spock keened, arching into him, he only sucked harder, and although the angle was awkward, Jim ground down against him with feverish enthusiasm, groaning as his cock pulsed. Spock was letting out broken little whines by the time Jim gave up on that idea, detaching his mouth from Spock’s nipple and rubbing his thumb gently around it, spreading his saliva over the swollen, apple-green areola.

‘Ashal-veh, _please,’_ Spock said hoarsely, tugging at his shirt. ‘I need to feel you.’

Leaning down to kiss him softly, Jim managed to wriggle his way out of his tee with little bother, pressing skin-to-skin against Spock before going straight for the other nipple. Once both nipples were considered thoroughly sucked, Spock whimpering in overstimulation every time they were touched, Jim sat back to admire his handiwork. His arousal had long since been forced into a slow burn by his concentration on Spock, but now, looking at his bondmate, it left him shuddering with want. Spock was spread out on the thick, white duvet, green from his cheeks to his chest, flushed mouth wet and open, and his eyes, _oh,_ his eyes were foggy with desire, pupils dilated hugely, and they were fixed upon Jim with something akin to worship. This gorgeous creature belonged to Jim, and he still couldn’t believe it.

Ignoring his own arousal as much as he could – which required a valiant effort – he licked his way into Spock’s open mouth, savouring the cool, exotic taste of him, then reached down to undo Spock’s trousers. The underwear beneath was soaked through, the sight of which never failed to make Jim shiver. Reverently, he trailed his fingers down from Spock’s waist, over delicate hipbones, hooking them in his boxers, and dragged them down to reveal his swollen cock.

_Do you have any idea how hot it gets me to see you like this?_ Jim whispered, undoing his own pants to relieve some of the pressure. _You’re so wet, so slick for me._

Spock was dripping with the lube he naturally produced, and he arched up when Jim ghosted a finger over the head of his cock, yet more dribbling from the slit.

_‘T’hy’la,’_ he gasped, groaning in despair when Jim removed his hand.

‘Uh, uh, uh. I’ve got other ideas for you.’

He reached for Spock’s left hand, disentangling it from the duvet, and brought it to his lips.

_Don’t worry, honey. I’ll make you come._

Eyes fixed unwaveringly on his bondmate’s, Jim unfurled his fingers and pressed a sloppy kiss to the centre of his palm, enjoying the quiet hitch of Spock’s breath as he pulled his lips away. He then dragged his tongue up from the heel of Spock’s hand to the very tip of his index finger, seeing Spock’s eyelids flutter. With a muffled, pleasured sigh, Jim pressed the aching bulge in his boxers against Spock’s naked cock, and began to suck. Within minutes, the material of his own underwear was soaked through with the evidence of Spock’s arousal, as Spock writhed beneath him, mouth working in soundless ecstasy. Jim stared down at his beautiful bondmate, moaning softly as he rocked against his dripping cock, and sucked a second finger into his mouth, letting his teeth graze Spock’s knuckles.

**_‘Jim,’_** Spock hissed, his free hand tugging so hard at the duvet that it tore. When Jim flicked his tongue over the webbing between his index and middle fingers, he gasped, then let out a quiet whine of pleasure, biting down on his lip in an attempt to suppress the sounds he was making.

_Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart,_ Jim said softly, reaching forward to pull his lip from under his teeth, but Spock used the opportunity to suck Jim’s thumb into his mouth, eyes hazily meeting his. _Oh, t’hy’la. Oh God._

_Sanu, ashalik,_ Spock pleaded, hips working desperately as Jim licked a stripe up his palm. He let Jim’s thumb fall from his mouth as he rubbed himself shamelessly against his cock, and Jim took the opportunity to use his wetted thumb and forefinger to gently pinch and squeeze his sensitised nipples, revelling in the little strangled gasps leaving his mouth. Arousal was burning through the bond, and Jim knew Spock was on the edge, knew from the pitch of his soft whining, knew from the force of his desire in his open mind. He was racing towards the finish line himself, but Spock was his priority. Angling his thigh so that Spock could easily rut against him, he took a third finger into his mouth and sucked harder, scrabbling for Spock’s other hand so he could lace their fingers together. As Spock panted, Jim’s name leaving his lips in a breathless chant, Jim _squeezed._ Spock’s mental cry of completion rang in Jim’s ears, fingers twitching in Jim’s mouth as he came untouched, his cock pulsing against Jim’s own. He was beautiful in his pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent scream as pleasure lit up the bond, and seeing him fall apart brought Jim so close to the edge.

‘Jim,’ Spock sighed, letting his fingers slip from Jim’s mouth. His voice was soft and breathy in the afterglow, a tiny smile adorning his face in all its beautiful rarity.

‘I love you,’ Jim blurted, so turned on he could barely breathe. ‘I _love_ you, Spock. I-I need-’

‘I know k’diwa,’ Spock said, his deep, velvet baritone making Jim’s stomach clench with need. He took hold of Jim’s hips and pulled him up the bed until he was straddling his stomach, fingers which still shook from the stimulation of before taking hold of Jim’s cock and pulling it free of his underwear. ‘I love you beyond measure.’

Jim was so close; he knew it wouldn’t take long. A strong hand pumped his cock just the way he liked it, Spock’s thumb spreading precome over the head, teasing his frenulum, and he could feel his lower belly begin to tighten with the beginnings of orgasm.

_‘Spock,’_ he choked, conscious of his need to be quiet, but also finding it difficult to reign in his reaction when Spock reached down to gently squeeze his sac, sending sparks of heat racing throughout his lower body. Desperate for a kiss, he made do with pressing paired fingers against Spock’s lips, his sensitivity heightened to an obscene degree.

_Come, ashayam._

Spock thumbed his leaking slit and pushed against his perineum as he slipped Jim’s fingers into his mouth, and with a soft cry, Jim spilled over his chest. Spock milked him gently until he couldn’t be touched anymore, and he collapsed against his chest, heedless of the drying semen there. There was no need for words as they held one another, Spock’s hands stroking the sweaty planes of his back as if he wasn’t kind of gross right now, their lips meeting in a series of sweet, chaste kisses.

‘Love you,’ Jim whispered, feeling that familiar warm burst of joy as Spock reciprocated. Reluctantly, he levered himself off his bondmate after two or three – or perhaps four or five – final kisses, destined for the shower. ‘Mind if I wash up first?’

‘Not at all.’

He took a quick sonic shower, and just in time it seemed, because as soon as Spock had disappeared for his own, Jim heard a quiet thud from the children’s room, then a wracking cry that tore at his heart. Pulling the door open, he intercepted his little girl as she stumbled forward in tears, scooping her up into his arms.

‘Shh, baby girl,’ he murmured, wincing in sympathy as she pressed her wet face into his neck. He could feel a dampness beneath her, and was thankful that they’d put her in pull-ups. ‘Daddy’s here, sweetie, shhh.’

_Is Liora well?_ Spock asked anxiously, mere seconds before he came out of the bathroom clad only in a towel.

_She’s just upset, poor baby. I think she wet herself a little._

Jim pressed a series of short kisses against her temple as Spock approached, one pale hand coming to rest atop her head. She looked round, tears streaking her ruddy face, and Spock stroked her hot cheek with the back of his finger, muttering a soothing, but incomprehensible slew of Vulcan before walking to the dresser he had placed their clothes in. Jim stared shamelessly at his backside as he bent over, then told himself off for it. Their daughter took precedence over his libido. She had calmed enough that she was no longer crying, so he sat on the bed and put her on his lap, bouncing her on his knee slightly.

‘Just wanted a cuddle, didn’t you, darling?’ he said cheerfully, watching her rub her eye with the side of her fist. ‘Did you have a bad dream?’

Liora nodded, wilting against him.

‘Mama gone?’

The question was so loaded with hope that Jim felt sick. At least he’d never known his dad to miss.

‘Yes, baby, I’m sorry,’ he said miserably, meeting Spock’s sad eyes over her head. He was holding a sippy cup that they had taken from someone else’s house; the fact that they were scavenging from the belongings of dead people had never sat well with him, but they had little choice. ‘Daddy and Sa-mekh are here to look after you now. Come on, honey, let’s get you changed.’

She clung to him as he got her out of her clothes and washed her, her grip so very strong for such a little girl, desperate and needful.

‘It’s alright, darling,’ Jim soothed, as he carried her back into the bedroom, sitting them both down on the bed again.

‘Would you like some apple, Liora?’ Spock asked, crouching in front of her with a plate and the cup. She nodded, hands outstretched, but Spock kept it just out of her reach, raising an eyebrow. ‘Use your words, pi’veh. What should you say when you want something?’

‘Pease.’

‘Good girl,’ Jim cooed, figuring it was best to keep her on his lap for now. Spock sat beside him, taking the cup from her when she was finished drinking, and allowed her to pick up the apple slices one by one. Part-way through her snack, there was a thin wail from next door which echoed through the baby monitor, and by the time Spock walked through, Theo was squalling.

‘Noisy,’ Liora pouted, putting her finger to her lips. ‘Sssss.’

Jim laughed, handing her the final apple slice.

‘I’m afraid babies don’t understand when to shush, even if you do.’

‘Bad loud,’ Liora muttered, slightly muffled by the apple she was chewing. ‘Bad.’

Jim wasn’t sure whether her proclamation was due to their previous experiences in Feral territory, or if it was just a general disgruntlement, but he pulled her to him anyway, pressing a kiss to her soft blonde hair. Unfazed, she finished eating, handing the cup back to him once she was done with it.

As Spock walked back into the room, Theo quiet but alert in his arms, there was a quiet knock on the door.

‘It’s only us!’ Amanda called, and Liora, who had been startled by the knock, started scrambling down from the bed.

‘Careful!’ Jim warned, lifting her down the rest of the way. ‘Come in, Amanda.’

No sooner had the door slid open than Liora ran smack into Amanda’s legs, wrapping her arms around them in a hold so tight that Amanda wobbled, laughing.

‘Liora, be careful,’ Spock reiterated, both of them placated when Liora was much gentler with Nyota, who hefted her up onto her hip.

Amanda took Theo from Spock, babbling high-pitched nonsense at him as he squealed.

‘We were just coming to see if Liora wanted to come and play with us,’ Nyota said brightly, tickling Liora until she giggled, squirming.

‘Fine by me, so long as you’re careful. Spock?’

‘Of course.’

‘What about it, Liora?’ Jim asked. When she turned to him, he was glad to see that the tear tracks on her face were fading. ‘Want to go with Grandma and Nyota?’

‘Yeah! Gam-ma.’

Jim melted at her exclamation, glad that she finally seemed to be finding her voice.

_She’s so cute,_ he informed Spock, as if he didn’t already know.

‘That’s right, sweetie. Grandma and Nyota.’

‘We’ll take her on a little tour, maybe to see your friend Christine,’ Amanda said, detaching Theo’s hand from her hair and handing him back to his sa-mekh. ‘It’ll give you some time with the little one. He looks much better than he did.’

‘Thank God,’ Jim sighed, his stomach dropping as he remembered how fragile Theo had been only a few weeks ago. Their little boy had suffered so much in the beginning, and they along with him, watching over him obsessively as the drugs (and Bones) worked their magic.

‘We’ll bring her back in time for dinner,’ Nyota promised, letting them both say a ridiculous number of goodbyes to her before she and Amanda led her from the room.

When the door slid shut behind them, Jim laid down on his back, watching Spock check the baby’s nappy. Apparently finding it clean, Spock dressed Theo again and approached the bed, sitting beside Jim.

‘Would you like to hold Theodore, t’hy’la?’

‘Please,’ Jim whispered, reaching out to take hold of him. He cradled him against his chest, feeling overwhelmed by the love he felt for this tiny, fragile creature, little mouth opening in a yawn. ‘I think he’s gonna fall asleep again.’

‘Indeed,’ Spock said softly, tracing Theo’s right ear with his finger.

Jim could feel Spock’s affection for their children as strongly as his own, and it made Jim love him all the more. Pressing their fingers briefly together in a Vulcan kiss, he shifted over on the bed and pulled Spock down beside him, laying Theo down between them. They both focused on their baby for a long moment, watching him fall asleep. Jim stroked the fuzzy wisps of hair down, as was becoming habit, and when he smiled lazily at his bondmate, Spock cupped his cheek, his thumb tracing the scar there.

‘Do you think it makes me look ugly?’ Jim blurted, unaware of the words forming in his mind until they were spoken. Seeing Spock’s eyebrow shoot up, he continued, ‘Christine seemed pretty fixated on it, is all.’

‘She was likely concerned for your wellbeing,’ Spock soothed, kissing him gently. ‘Of course it does not make you look ugly. I do not think anything could. You are exceedingly beautiful.’

‘’Exceedingly’, huh?’ Jim teased, though he knew his face was red. The bond thrummed with amorous affection, and Jim returned it two-fold, laying a hand on Theo’s belly as he squirmed restlessly.

‘Correct. You do not see the way others look at you. It is most… irksome.’

‘Jealous, baby?’ Jim grinned. ‘You know I’d never look at anyone else.’

_That is fortunate, as Vulcans do not enjoy sharing._

Jim shivered at the predatory look in his eye, and was about to tell him how much he enjoyed that particular facet of his personality when Theo mewled, evidently displeased.

‘Oh dear, what’s the matter? D’you reckon he’s hungry?’

‘I believe so,’ Spock replied, rising from the bed to make a bottle up. When he returned, he handed it to Jim, who sat up and settled Theo into the crook of his arm. The baby sucked hungrily, eyes wide and chubby fists raised. Jim watched him indulgently, unable to resist nuzzling into his soft hair and inhaling his sweet baby smell.

‘T’hy’la, may I ask you something?’

He looked up from Theo as Spock broke the silence and perched on the edge of the bed, one long, pale finger reaching out to stroke the sole of Theo’s foot.

‘Sure.’

‘You seem particularly close to Captain Pike,’ Spock said softly. ‘Why is that?’

Jim smiled as he recalled all Chris had done for him, when at first, he hadn’t been grateful for it at all.

‘You know he was the one to get me into Starfleet in the first place,’ he murmured, a statement rather than a question.

Spock nodded nonetheless, reaching for Theo. It took a moment for Jim to notice that the baby had finished feeding, his eyelids drooping, but handed him over as soon as he did.

‘Well, he’s done a lot for me since then.’

Spock settled Theo into a sitting position, one hand supporting his head as he tilted him forwards, the other patting gently at his back.

‘How so?’

How could he explain what Chris had become to him without sounding like a needy wet blanket with daddy issues? As he struggled for clarity, Spock made a suggestion.

‘You could always show me, if you wish.’

‘A meld?’ Jim asked worriedly, focusing on the baby. ‘What about Theo? What if he gets sick again or cries and we don’t notice?’

Theo was falling asleep in his sa-mekh’s arms, and after a quick kiss from both parents, was settled back into his cot, the door between the rooms left wide open.

‘I will retain an adequate degree of awareness, k’diwa,’ Spock replied, walking back through. ‘Do not worry. I would never let harm come to our child.’

Taking Jim’s face into his hands, he affixed his fingers to the meld points, and then their minds were falling together. Joining in this way was, as always, exquisite. Their melding elicited a strange wondrous pleasure in Jim, not quite sexual in nature, but certainly emotional, and intimate beyond measure. Spock’s hand was tight in his as he took a moment to bask in the familiar sunlight of their meld, a thumb stroking over the base of his own.

_I’ve only ever shown you bad memories,_ he realised, looking towards the barrier, behind which a storm still raged. _How do I show you the good?_

_In the same way, t’hy’la,_ Spock replied, a gentle curve to his lips. He led Jim forward, and the storm behind the area they approached dissipated, spreading out sideways like a parted sea. _Think about what you wish to show me, and I will see it._

Jim briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was seeing himself in that miserable Iowan bar, slumped in a chair with a bloodied nose and a model of the Enterprise between two fingers, Chris Pike stood before him.

_‘I dare you to do better.’_

That memory was soon swept away to make room for another from Jim’s first year at the Academy, when Jim had been attacked by a group of guys on his course for upsetting the grade curve. Jim felt Spock stiffen beside him as his double, bruised and bloody and shaking, came limping round the corner of one of the Academy bars.

_Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright,_ Jim soothed, kissing the back of Spock’s hand as he lurched forwards as if to help, expression stricken. _You’ll see._

The other Jim collapsed against the dirty back wall of the building, eyes closed, barely twitching at the sudden shout of his name as Chris came running over.

‘Jim? Jim can you hear me?’ he asked, frantic. ‘I’m going to call an ambulance. You’ll be alright.’

The scene changed, and Jim’s double was gasping for breath, face bright red and swelling as he collapsed in Chris’ office, the tea that had set him off dripping from the overturned cup onto the carpet. Originally bending over Jim, Chris ran round his desk and yanked his desk drawer open so hard that it came out completely, spilling its contents onto the floor. Chris scrabbled through it until he found a loaded hypospray, then dashed round the desk again and stabbed it into Jim’s neck, sagging in relief when Jim began breathing normally again

_He started keeping those in his desk as soon as he knew about my allergies. Bones said he probably saved my life that day._

_I am thankful,_ Spock rasped, a flurry of conflicting emotions passing through to Jim.

_He helped me lots of times like that,_ Jim said, pulling him close. _I even stayed at his a few times when I was ill. Try- try not to get too mad with this last one._

He could feel Spock’s confusion – that was, until the scene changed once more. This time, Jim’s double was slumped in a chair in Chris’ living room, head in his hands. Spock inhaled sharply when he looked up at Number One as she came in, first aid kit in hand. His face was a mess, nose evidently broken, the skin around one eye so swollen he couldn’t open it. Spock’s fury was sudden and intense, so primal that the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck rose as it blasted through the bond.

_Who?_ he growled, letting go of Jim’s hand, presumably so he wouldn’t hurt him. _Who **dared** harm you?_

_Gary Mitchell,_ Jim whispered, watching his double dissolve into tears with a painful twinge. _We were sort of in a relationship, but he did that because I wouldn’t sleep with him._

Spock’s rage, if possible, deepened further. It was enough to show on his face, and Jim took hold of his wrist, needing comfort rather than a feral bondmate. As soon as Jim touched him, Spock calmed, turning to take Jim into his arms.

_Bones was away, seeing… seeing JoJo,_ Jim explained, burying his face in the crook of Spock’s neck. _I had nobody else to turn to. Gary was brought up on assault charges, but he wasn’t kicked out of the Academy because he has – had – an uncle on the Board._

_That is ridiculous,_ Spock hissed, as they watched Chris come into the room and pull Jim into a tight hug. _There should have been an inquiry._

_Unfortunately, people look at my track record and feel they don’t need to bother. It’s okay though – Chris let me stay at his for the week while Bones was away. I needed that more than I needed anything else._

Spock slowly drew them from the meld, and for a good five minutes, Jim basked in the worshipful kisses being pressed to his face, and the extraordinary strength of Spock’s love surrounding him in the bond. Then, Spock sat up, brows knitting.

‘You consider those _good_ memories?’

‘Yeah, well,’ Jim shrugged, a little embarrassed. ‘Chris was always there to help me. They ended okay, and that’s all that matters. There’s a lot more that didn’t.’

_I am sorry that you have suffered, t’hy’la._

_It’s okay. I know you have too, and if you ever feel comfortable with showing me, I’m here._

Spock’s expression may have been unreadable, but his mixture of uncertainty and gratitude were plain to Jim from their connection. He might have spoken, lips parting in preparation, but then there was a series of arrhythmic knocks on the door.

‘She wants back in!’ Nyota called from outside, laughter in her voice.

_Looks like that’ll have to wait, love._

Dinner was had within Delta Block, as although there had been a main mess set up in the building beside Gamma, neither Jim nor Spock had wanted to disturb the children. They ended up in the small dining hall adjacent to the foyer, their original group joined by Pavel, Hikaru, Scotty and Keenser, using the replicators there. Theo was asleep against Spock in his sling, and while Liora seemed to be enjoying her shepherd’s pie, Jim was rather grumpily stabbing at the chicken salad Bones had forced in front of him.      

‘There used to be a lovely lass over in Alpha,’ Scotty lamented, poking mournfully at his replicated lamb. ‘She made amazin’ sandwiches. Massive, they were… an’ now we have this.’

Keenser seemed rather unimpressed by Scotty complaining, but Nyota patted his hand, which seemed to perk him right up. In the end, both Jim and Liora had to be persuaded to eat something – he, his carrot; she, her peas – but there was relatively little trouble, considering how tired they all were.

By 1900, Liora was tucked up in bed asleep, flat-out in a way that Jim was rather jealous of. She had seemed to enjoy the story Jim had blatantly plagiarised from Saint-Exupéry, although Spock had raised an eyebrow, and she had gone down pretty easily after that. Theo, however, had taken much longer to settle, restless after the constant movement of the day. Jim supposed that was partially his fault; while Theo was not a particularly demanding baby, his recent illness had scared them half to death, and neither Jim nor Spock were keen on leaving him to cry. He would rather have a spoilt son than a dead one.

Bones and Amanda had offered to babysit, and Jim had agreed to both, thinking that at least they would be able to provide company for one another. They arrived together fifteen minutes early, by which time both children were out for the count.

‘Thanks for this.’ Jim lingered in the doorway of the children’s room until Spock gently ushered him away. ‘We shouldn’t be too long.’

‘It’s no problem at all,’ Amanda chirped, taking his place.

Bones merely grunted, suspiciously subdued. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really browbeaten Jim to his usual standard at dinner, and that would have to be investigated.

‘We will see you later,’ Spock said quietly, guiding Jim from the room.

_Bones is being weird,_ Jim complained, as they walked towards the administrative block. _I’m gonna talk to him when we get back, I think._

_I also noticed a personality change. It could potentially be fatigue, could it not?_

_Nah. I’ve seen Bones at 36 hours awake, and he gets louder, not quieter. I’ll force it out of him later._

Even this early in the evening, campus was empty, but Jim wasn’t surprised. Fear won out, just as it had outside, because who was to say that they were safe? The families that had returned here were the broken pieces that remained of what they had originally been, the remnants of much larger groups of parents and children, siblings and spouses, and they were appropriately cautious. Chris could tell them all that the place was impenetrable until he was blue in the face, and Jim would still be worrying about his kids every second of every day. They weren’t safe, not by a long shot. The only way they would be was if they left the damn planet.

Spock startled him out of his musings by pulling open the heavy door to the administrative block, its hinges creaking. The old style wood was at odds with the design of the rest of the building, sleek and modern, like starships were. Once inside, Jim quickly found Room 5A and rapped smartly on the door, beckoned in by Chris’ quiet invitation.

It was a weary smile, but a smile nonetheless that greeted them as they entered the office, and considering the lines of Chris’ face, Jim didn’t think he’d been smiling much at all recently. He grinned back, and Spock offered a nod as Chris waved a hand towards the chairs before the desk, made out of the kind of creaky wood that made Jim worry about his weight.

‘You’re early.’

‘My mother and Leonard arrived early to look after the children,’ Spock explained, and Chris nodded, waving it away.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, putting down the padd and stylus he was holding, and leaning his elbows on the desk. ‘I have to ask – are you guys together?’

Jim beamed, holding two fingers out to Spock. A Vulcan kiss was bestowed upon him a moment later, Chris staring as their fingers twisted together.

‘We were bonded 4.96 weeks ago,’ Spock informed him.

‘Bonded,’ Chris repeated, seemingly stunned. Then his face melted into his second smile of the evening, though there was strain in the lines of his eyes. ‘Congratulations, boys. I can’t say I expected it – certainly not in the situation we’re in now – but I’m still happy for you. Still wish I could’ve seen it, though.’

Embarrassment flooded through the bond, as Spock flushed, and Jim burst out laughing.

‘You really- bonding isn’t like marriage, Chris. Well, it is, but the, uh, ‘ceremony’ really isn’t. Trust me, I’m not sure you’d have wanted to see it.’

Chris had apparently caught on, and blushed himself, lips quirking.

‘I’m not going to ask, because I think I already know the answer. What about the kids?’

Jim sobered immediately, Spock’s hand brushing his out of sight.

‘We discovered a dying human woman in Wyoming,’ Spock elucidated. ‘She had with her a toddler and a newborn infant, and we assured her that they would be looked after.’

‘Theo’s been really sick, Chris,’ Jim blurted, concerned eyes meeting his. ‘He had meningitis, and we were scared he wasn’t going to make it. But he did, thank God.’

‘Poor little thing. He’s alright now, though?’

‘Leonard frequently monitors him, but he assures us that he is perfectly well,’ Spock replied, still holding Jim’s hand. ‘Captain, I apologise if this is hurtful to you, but might I inquire about your wife?’

Chris’ eyes filled with pain, his expression twisting with it as he dropped his gaze to the table. When he spoke, his voice was shaking, barely audible.

‘Angela died. Torn… torn apart by those things. Don’t know if it would have been better for her to have turned, but-’

His voice broke. Pain and compassion welled in Jim to an almost unbearable degree, and he knew it must have been affecting Spock as he reached across the table, his hand falling on Chris’ arm and squeezing.

‘I’m so sorry, Chris,’ he whispered, knowing that he’d choke on the words if he spoke them any louder. ‘She was a great woman.’

‘I grieve with thee,’ Spock added quietly, meeting Chris’ teary eyes as they raised.

Chris nodded, biting down on his lower lip. Then he cleared his throat, and changed the subject, though there was a still a sort of desperation seeping into his tone.

‘Are you guys ready to come on duty? I need people I can trust to do a good job, and I know that’s both of you. Scotty’s cobbled together a few radios that I’m issuing tomorrow, but you two can have yours tonight.’

Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out two sleek silver boxes with stubby antennae, a little larger than communicators, but certainly more than any of them had had access to recently.

_What do you think?_

_I am agreeable, but the children must be considered._

‘That’s fine, but we have conditions,’ Jim said firmly. ‘We want the kids with us whenever they can be. They’re traumatised enough without us absent. And when we absolutely can’t have them - I need someone we trust looking after them.’

‘That’s fair,’ Chris agreed. ‘I’ll add you to the guard rota along with Cadet Uhura, if she’s willing. Obviously it’ll be too dangerous for the kids to be there, but I’m sure your mom will help out, Spock, and maybe Cadet Rand when she’s well again. There are a hundred and sixty-two of us here now, including your group, but sixty-seven are civilians, and twenty-three of those are under sixteen. The remaining ninety-three might all be Starfleet, but some had barely begun training. Incredibly, Commander, you’re my most experienced officer here.’

Neither of them were particularly surprised by that, though Jim did make a vague sort of humming noise in reply. What came next, however, was much more deserving of shock.

‘I need capable people to help me make executive decision. I have Spock, and Lieutenant Commander Scott, of course, but the latter has informed me that he’s not interested in command. I know you have a good head for a crisis, Jim, and you’ve grown up a lot in the last three years. That’s why I’m promoting you to Commander.’

Astonished, Jim could only stare, both grateful for, and unnerved by, his sudden change in status. Spock gave him a gentle mental nudge, a reminder to respond, and he met Chris’ expectant gaze with a disbelieving smile.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed, basking in Spock’s wash of pride, ‘but, sir, are you sure? I never even finished at the Academy.’

‘You were damn close, though,’ Chris countered. ‘And if I’d have had it my way, you’d have graduated with a rank of Lieutenant. Sure, you’re skipping a grade, but haven’t you been doing that all your life? I have faith in you, son.’

Coming from anyone else’s mouth, those would have been empty words, but when Chris said them, Jim actually felt like he was worth something. Chris had always made him feel like he was worth something, even when he’d been at his most unpleasant, play-acting at arrogance to drown out Frank’s voice in his head. Jim smiled tremulously, grateful for Spock’s anchoring hand on his thigh.

‘Thank you,’ he repeated, taking his radio from the desk. ‘What kind of range do these have?’

‘About ten miles. Mr Scott’s done as well as he can without the comms network.’

Jim nodded, wedging the unwieldy thing into his pocket with difficulty.

‘Is there anything further you wish to discuss with us, Captain?’ Spock asked politely, taking his own radio.

Chris visibly hesitated, but then he shook his head, standing. They followed suit when he gestured for them to do so, Spock’s hand leaving Jim’s thigh at the very last second.

‘Not tonight, gentlemen. If you would report to me along with Cadet Uhura and Mrs Grayson tomorrow at 0900, I’d be grateful. Feel free to bring the kids; we’re only drawing up rotas.’

‘Sure,’ Jim said easily. ‘Want to walk back with us – see the kids?’

‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

Chris ushered them out of the door and locked it with a fingerprint, before leading them from the administrative block.

‘I must say, I would never have expected you two to end up together, but I’m glad you are. But so quickly? I guess I never really figured you for the settling-down type, Jim.’

‘Neither did I ’til I met him,’ Jim replied, then flushed when he realised how sappy he sounded.

_I am eternally grateful that you changed your mind, ashayam,_ Spock said warmly, the softness of his tone making Jim’s heart flutter. _If you are agreeable, I will inform him about our bond._

The t’hy’la bond was special enough that Jim didn’t want its inner workings shouted from the rooftops, but Chris was the closest thing he’d ever had to a dad. He was special too.

_Sure, honey, go ahead._

‘The bond that James and I share is unique,’ Spock explained, as they passed the abandoned Andromeda bar. ‘When we met, we experienced an immediate connection, and upon melding, we discovered that we were t’hy’lara. The t’hy’la bond is incredibly rare, and sacred among my people. I do believe, however, that there will be those on Vulcan who have experienced great agony as their human t’hy’la perished in this pandemic. I am extremely fortunate to have Jim and the children.’

**_I’m_** _the lucky one,_ Jim argued, to which Spock responded with fond amusement.

‘Good for you,’ Chris said softly, a fading, but genuine smile on his face. ‘Good for you.’

As they neared Delta Block, Jim found himself watching Chris out of the corner of his eye. He knew Chris must be suffering after Angela’s death, knew that bottling things up probably wasn’t good for him, but he didn’t want to push too hard. He took his chance as they entered the foyer, holding the door to the corridor closed as he turned.

‘Chris, no pressure, but I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, I’m here. We’re both here.’

Eyes cast down, Chris was silent for a long moment. His shoulders were slumped, but as he sighed and looked up, he squared them again, the very picture of command.

‘Thanks, Jim, but not now. Not yet.’

Defeated, but glad for the possibility of helping him in the future, Jim nodded and removed his hand from the door.

_Theodore is distressed,_ Spock informed him, as they stepped into the corridor.

Jim couldn’t hear it through the thick walls of the visitor suites, but he trusted in Spock’s sharper hearing, and sped up accordingly. Sure enough, when they were halfway down the corridor, faint, sharp cries echoed in Jim’s ears, getting louder as they approached. Despite knowing that Theo was probably wailing because he was hungry or needed a change, Jim still hated hearing him scream, worried that it signified a return to illness.

Spock, who was able to power walk without looking like he was doing it, arrived at the door slightly ahead of him, and rapped smartly upon it. The door opened to reveal Bones holding their screaming son, whom Spock took immediately from him, cradling Theo against his chest. Within moments of changing hands, Spock’s gentle rocking and sweet murmurs calmed their baby, to the relief of them all.

‘Missed his daddies,’ Bones drawled, handing Liora over to Jim as they entered the room, which felt entirely too small with seven of them in it.

‘Thanks a lot for looking after them,’ Jim told him and Amanda. ‘I owe you both.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ Amanda demurred. She kissed Liora’s temple and touched Theo’s little hand as she moved towards the door, kissing Spock’s cheek for good measure. ‘Liora’s been good as gold, though we did have to change her once. Poor Theo had a little separation anxiety, I think. It’s nice to see you again, Captain.’

‘And you,’ Chris answered, watching Spock calm the baby with something like awe.

Bones’ goodbyes were a little less enthusiastic, but meaningful all the same. He looked particularly haggard tonight, and Jim wasn’t sure it was all due to having had the kids for forty-five minutes.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Jimmy,’ he muttered, pale and drawn under the artificial lights. ‘Night, everyone.’

‘Night, Bonesy,’ Jim returned, hiking Liora up on his hip. She was lolling against his shoulder, and although she twitched when the door closed behind Bones, she didn’t wake. ‘I’ll just put her to bed. Make yourself at home, Chris.’

As he laid her down, gently disentangling her fingers from his shirt, he placed a teddy bear they had taken from a looted shop into the crook of her arm. It was a dark, rich brown with a red bow around its neck, and she had loved it on sight. Jim pulled the covers over her and the bear, activating the guard rail, and stroked her soft, warm cheek as she burrowed into the duvet.

‘Love you,’ he whispered, starting at the touch of Spock’s hands on his waist.

_She is sleeping?_

_Mhm. Where’s Chris?_

_He is holding Theodore,_ Spock replied, reaching out to smooth down the duvet at Liora’s feet. _Come._

He led Jim from the room, and back to where Chris was cradling Theo. Jim had never really seen Chris around kids before, but he held Theo like he was his own, his whole world centred on the child in his arms.

‘He’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah, he is,’ Jim smiled. When Chris held Theo out, he lifted the baby carefully so as not to wake him, cradling the little warm body against his chest. ‘So, bright and early tomorrow?’

‘That’s right. I’ll leave you to put the little ones to bed, but I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Chris turned as he pressed the door release, that brittle smile working its way onto his face again.

‘I can’t express how much it means to me to see you both alive.’

‘And you, Chris,’ Jim returned warmly, and as the door closed behind Chris, he remembered that he’d been meaning to see Bones. Before he had even voiced his thoughts, Spock reached out for Theo, allowing him to press a goodnight kiss to their son’s head before taking him into his arms.

‘I will put him down, ashal-veh, do not worry.’

‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ Jim grinned, brushing two fingers against his as he followed Chris out of the door. ‘Won’t be long.’

He found the corridor empty, which wasn’t surprising, considering that Chris was only two doors away. Bones was directly across the hall, and when Jim knocked quietly, there was a long pause before he answered.

‘Who is it?’

Jim frowned. The question was quiet and subdued, two traits which had never belonged to his best friend.

‘It’s me,’ he whispered. ‘Lemme in.’

‘Let yourself in. The door’s keyed to your fingerprint.’

The room was mostly dark when Jim entered, lit only by a lamp on the bedside table. Bones was sat on the end of the bed, bent over, his head bowed. Jim flicked a second light on as he walked over to the bed, and sat beside him, watching him tremble with a vicious stab of anxiety.

‘What’s the matter, Bonesy?’ he asked gently, clasping his shoulder.

Bones flinched at the contact, looking up for just a second before returning his gaze to the floor, but it was more than enough time for Jim to see the tears dribbling down his face.

‘Hey,’ Jim crooned, trying without success to relax Bones’ rigid posture. ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’

Bones shook his head miserably, Jim’s soothing motions on his back seeming to make very little difference.

‘Talk to me.’

Jim slung a comforting arm around him, and all at once, Bones’ tense muscles relaxed as he gave in, allowing Jim to pull him into a hug.

‘What’s the matter, eh?’ Jim repeated, feeling hot tears against his neck.

‘Sorry, Jimmy. I’m bein’ a baby.’

‘No, you’re not. How many times have you had to do this with me? C’mon. Tell me.’

There was another long pause, punctured only by Bones’ heaving breaths and ragged sobs.

‘Joanna,’ Bones finally breathed, air spluttering noisily from his lungs. Jim’s heart sank, as it ever did when she was mentioned, stomach heavy with guilt and pain that he knew was a mere fraction of Bones’ own. ‘Your kids are the sweetest little angels, but I can’t help missin’ her, Jimmy. I can’t.’

Jim’s guilt grew tenfold as he rocked his sobbing friend, threading a hand into thick brown hair and rubbing his back.

_I might be a little while, t’hy’la. Bones is crying._

_Is he well?_

_Physically, yeah. It’s Jo-Jo. I’ll… I’ll talk to you when I come back._

‘I’m so sorry,’ Jim said brokenly. ‘It was selfish to ask you to look after them.’

‘No, it wasn’t. It makes me feel like a parent again, if only a little bit.’ Bones emerged from his shoulder with a stained face, but there were no more tears falling. He sniffed, pulling back. ‘I’m fine.’

‘No, you’re not, and that’s okay,’ Jim insisted, smoothing his hair down. ‘The kids love you, and we love you too, so feel free to come and be with them whenever. And… and thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For saving my son. I’m not sure I’ve said that to you properly yet.’

‘As if I would let anythin’ happen to that little darlin’,’ Bones said indignantly. Then, amazingly, his lips quirked. ‘He’s damn cute, even if he did wait until you were gone tonight to do a massive shit.’

‘That’s my boy!’ Jim crowed, cackling.

‘Definitely your son,’ Bones agreed, rolling his eyes. ‘Determined to make my life harder.’

The tension of before was broken, and with a final squeeze of his shoulder, Jim stood.

‘D’you wanna come sleep with us? We could drag another bed in.’

‘What, and listen to you two go at it all night?’ Bones said disgustedly, his voice shooting up in pitch as he presumably mimicked Jim. ‘‘Oh God, baby, love you, need you so much!’ Don’t think I haven’t heard you two on our travels. It’s enough to make me wanna puncture my eardrums.’

‘Shut up,’ Jim mumbled, punching him on the shoulder. ‘I’m going to my room, but if you need me, just knock. I’ll get up, I promise.’

‘Thanks, sugar,’ Bones drawled, kicking off his boots. ‘I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah?’

‘Mhmm. Night, Bonesy.’

‘Night, Jim.’

As Jim left him alone, destined for his own room full of what Bones had once had and lost, guilt ate away at Jim in more ways than one. Bones was his best friend, and he was going to make damn sure that he felt part of their family, whatever he had to do to achieve that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a long week. Really hope you all enjoy this chapter - please leave a comment if you do! - and you can always contact me at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)! Hope everyone has a great weekend :)


	17. I Once Was Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I really hope you like this chapter, but I have to warn you that there's an retrospective description of self-harm near the end - be safe <3

Stardate 2261.77. 1120 hours. KL interviewing STS.

The children are still conspicuously absent when Spock arrives for his interview, so I suspect that they are in the care of others for the day. Spock confirms this, telling me that his mother has taken the children due to their compulsory attendance at a meeting this afternoon. God only knows what they’re discussing with the Federation Council, but neither of them seem to be in a particularly good mood on the days that they have these meetings. While his habitually flawless appearance remains unmarred by signs of parenthood, I find myself staring at his lower lip, which is tinged green and slightly swollen. He was only just on time this morning; perhaps Jim was the cause of this unusual deviation from punctuality.

STS: I apologise for my earlier intrusion. _[He doesn’t look particularly apologetic.]_ Jim’s emotional wellbeing is of greater importance to me than confidentiality.

Oh no, it’s fine. I understand.

_[His eyes do not lose their cold intensity.]_

STS: I am aware that you consider full disclosure to be most beneficial for Federation records, but I do not believe that it is necessary to have knowledge of our experiences during childhood. Furthermore, it will not endear you to Jim to question him about his past.

Yes, I know. I was trying to be helpful, but it seems that backfired.

_[Spock remains silent, an eyebrow raised. I decide to move on.]_

Did you feel safe at the Academy?

STS: Nowhere was entirely secure.

So… that’s a ‘no’?

STS: I did not consider any place on Terra safe enough for my family. Despite the illusion of security provided by those wearing Starfleet uniforms, Captain Pike’s trust in myself and Jim allowed us the privilege of knowledge that was not made explicit to resident civilians.

Such as?

STS: There were security flaws in that particular area. Although the entirety of the campus had originally been purged of the reanimated, the Academy settlement was comprised of a part of campus less than a quarter of the size of the whole.

Makes sense. Less space means tighter control.

_[Spock nods sharply, though it seems more of a twitch than a voluntary movement.]_

STS: Even so, there were fewer members of Starfleet than would be required to police each entrance. As such, it also meant that there were few options in the case of an attack. The infected follow their prey as all predators do, and while at first this meant that they spread and infested suburban and rural areas, once that avenue was exhausted, they returned to urban population centres.

How do they know where people are?

STS: I do not know. I do not believe that it is merely aimless wandering that brings them into contact with the living, but I have no evidence to the contrary. On board the Enterprise, I studied their migration patterns rigorously, and yet I found no discernible method to them.

How quickly did you realise that there was a problem?

STS: Captain Pike had warned us of a number of security breaches that had occurred since he had returned to the Academy, and explained that he expected more. Jim… Jim was not pleased, but he accepted the situation as best he could. Four point five weeks after our arrival, there was a small outbreak near the medical centre.

A Feral got in?

_[Spock’s eyes narrow, his mouth set in a grim line.]_

STS: In a manner of speaking.

* * *

The return to routine was, for Spock, something which brought with it a sense of comfort. Of course, he did not do the same thing every day – nor did Jim, whom Spock knew was liable to become very frustrated if not stimulated on a regular basis – but the familiarity of rank and order certainly appealed to him. Comfort, however, did not explain the bone-deep joy Spock felt, in spite of the dangers of this transformed world. His family did. It was still difficult to believe that he had been fortunate enough to find Jim and the children, that he had been accepted wholeheartedly as partner and parent, doubly so when one considered that so many others had lost what he had gained. Watching the children grow was infinitely fulfilling, despite the perpetual fear that harm could come to them in his absence. Whilst still somewhat withdrawn, Liora was beginning to speak more in the presence of their friends and relatives, and this morning, Spock had seen Theodore laugh for the first time.

Despite this strange new contentment, however, Spock was now settled enough to regret the loss of his scientific duties. He would gladly have given them up for the sake of Jim and the children, but he had always derived satisfaction from immersing himself in the latest research, ever since his isolation as a child had led him to replace social pursuits with the intellectual.

Jim was similarly restless. Though he was rarely fractious with Spock, and never with the children, his frustration with their situation was beginning to show. Spock knew that Jim sometimes had difficulty with authority figures due to both his early experiences and his commanding personality, but Jim respected Captain Pike, so Spock knew that his occasional ill-temper must be due to his concern about security. Jim and the Captain argued frequently, and although it was in a way which reminded Spock more of parent and child than commanding officer and subordinate, there was meaning behind it. They were all attempting to distribute resources as efficiently as possible, but the fact remained that there were not enough Starfleet cadets, nor able-bodied adults at all, to permanently eliminate the threat of invasion. Despite this undeniable fact, those civilians that were willing and able had begun basic Starfleet combat and survival training as a stopgap measure. Spock knew that it would not be enough.

Sitting in Captain Pike’s office, as they so often were, the Captain leant forward onto his elbows and ran his hands through his hair, as he so often did. Jim had snapped at him, making a valid point, but as the Captain had said, ‘his hands were tied’ on this particular matter.

_‘Jim,_ Spock said softly. _Ashaya, please, do not stress yourself._

When he reached for Jim’s hand beneath the table, Jim pressed their fingers firmly together, then settled Spock’s hand upon his thigh, his own resting atop it.

_I’m sorry, t’hy’la. I’m just worried about everyone._

_As am I._

As previously promised, Captain Pike had allowed the children to remain with them as much as possible, including during meetings such as this, the content of which both were too young to understand. Theodore slept soundly, cradled against Spock’s chest in Mr Scott’s sling, the warmth of his tiny body and the steadiness of his breathing bringing comfort to Spock. He cried a great deal, and while both Jim and Spock’s mother assured Spock it was natural, he was even more grateful that they were no longer in incessant danger. Cupping the baby’s head with a protective hand, he cast his gaze across to Liora, who was playing quietly with a doll that Mr Scott had made for her. The Scotsman seemed very fond of both children, which was another source of gratitude for Spock.

‘Whatever the timescale, I think we all agree that this place won’t be sustainable forever,’ Jim said tightly. ‘At some point, without massive structural reinforcements and a doubling in trained personnel, everything is going to fall apart. And what happens then? What are our options? ’Cause I don’t want to wait until the very last second to make contingency plans. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, but I will _not_ risk my family if I can help it.’

His voice grew incrementally louder as he spoke, though not enough to disturb the children. Spock attempted to soothe him through the bond, but Jim’s anxiety was strong, dissipated only a little by Spock’s attempts at comfort.

‘Perhaps we could return to the conference centre in Des Moines?’ he put forth, suspecting that the suggestion would be rejected.

‘Not big enough,’ Jim frowned, nibbling at his lip. ‘We’d probably be able to squish everyone in if we slept on the floor, but that would get old pretty fast. Being in such a tight space with no privacy would drive everyone nuts. Plus, it’s slap bang in the middle of Des Moines. God, I don’t know.’

Spock was similarly at a loss. He had not often travelled during his time on Terra, and so he had seen very few structures that would be suitable for such a large group. He was also unaware of the status of buildings that he could suggest from his general knowledge, and as such, they would not be worth mentioning.

‘We’ve got to think of somewhere.’

Jim took a breath as if to continue, which whooshed from his lungs as Liora tugged on his sleeve, holding out a piece of paper she had scribbled on in crayon, the ragdoll hanging from her other hand.

‘That’s very good, sweetie,’ Jim praised, his smile a little strained. ‘Draw me another one?’

Making a grunting noise of frustration, she thrust the paper out again, this time in Spock’s direction. Sliding his hand out from underneath Jim’s with a gentle squeeze to his thigh, Spock reached out and took her drawing, laying it on the table before him.

‘Thank you, ko-fu. Your daddy and I would be pleased if you would draw us another.’

Apparently mollified by the approval of both parents, Liora grinned, returning to her place on the floor and taking another crayon in hand.

‘Where can we go, Chris?’ Jim asked wearily. ‘We can’t split everyone up; that would be incredibly unfair when people have risked their lives for what they thought was safety. But what else can we do?’

Despite his bondmate’s increasing agitation, Spock was watching Captain Pike. The Captain seemed almost apprehensive, despite the fact that he had contributed little so far to the conversation. When Jim had finished speaking, he leant forward, resting his weight on his forearms.

‘There might be another option. It’d be a longshot, though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jim leant forwards in a mirror of Captain Pike, eyes startlingly bright. ‘Come on, Chris, spit it out.’

Captain Pike sighed, dipping his head before looking Jim straight in the eye.

‘The Enterprise.’

Jim inhaled sharply, a flurry of complex mix of emotions hurtling through his mind.

Looking from him to the Captain, Spock asked, ‘Am I to understand that the Enterprise is a starship?’

‘Yeah, she is. She was the decider for me,’ Jim answered, tone softened with nostalgia. ‘Even after Chris found me in that dive, I wasn’t sure about Starfleet. But then I saw her in the shipyard, just the bare bones of her, and I knew I had to join up, if only for her sake.’

_I am grateful for that. And for you._

_Yeah, me too,_ Jim replied, cheeks pinking ever so slightly. He pressed his fingers to Spock’s, who shivered in pleasure at the gentle brush against sensitive skin.

‘Where is the ship located?’ Spock inquired, removing temptation by sliding his hand away from Jim’s.

‘It’s still in Iowa, as far as I know.’

‘Riverside,’ Jim whispered, his fleeting pain clear through the bond if not in his voice. ‘It would be a long, hard journey, Chris, particularly with so many of us.’

Captain Pike nodded, brow furrowed as he leant back in his chair.

‘I know that, Jim. I would never try and uproot anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, especially with the kids so little. Your two are the youngest here, and I love ’em to bits. I wouldn’t risk them for anything. I hope you know that.’

‘Of course I-’

Jim was cut off by a panicked shout of ‘Captain!’ from outside the office, and in the few seconds it took for the red-faced cadet to burst in, Jim had snatched up Liora from the floor, and both he and Spock were stood with their phasers aimed at the door. Having skirted round the table to stand protectively in front of them, Captain Pike received the visitor with his own phaser out, free arm outstretched as if to hide Theodore from view.

‘Captain,’ the young man gasped, dark hair flopping over his face as he bent at the waist, hands trembling on his thighs.

With both dread and an icy, terrible fear suffusing his body, Spock curled his free arm around the sling, a second barrier to ensure that no harm came to Theodore.

‘A guy turned in the medical block,’ the cadet continued, breathless. ‘He infected some of the patients, maybe the staff, I don’t know. They sent me-’

Before he could finish, Captain Pike began herding him back towards the door.

‘You can explain as we go. Move.’

_Bones,_ Jim said weakly, evidently torn between the irrepressible instinct to keep their children safe, and fear for the life of their friend. Jim tightened his grip on Liora as he spoke, who whimpered in terror, the atmosphere infectious despite her lack of understanding.

_I know, k’diwa,_ Spock murmured, helpless to comfort him. He could feel Jim’s turmoil keenly, his own not insignificant, and the combination of it all made his stomach churn. _Remember that he has extensive experience in combating the infected._

‘Stay here, and stay safe,’ the Captain ordered, making to leave, but then approaching footsteps in the corridor halted him in his tracks.

When Spock recognised the gait of two humans, he cautiously approached the door with his phaser held aloft, Jim by his side as always.

‘Mother,’ he blurted, as she jogged towards the stationary group, a familiar South Asian cadet just behind her. She seemed unharmed, which was encouraging, but his perception was no guarantee. ‘Mother, are you well?’

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she panted, her hair all in disarray, falling from the ponytail she had pulled it into. ‘Are _you?_ Are the children? This young man – Mr Lewinsky – told me what was happening when I came out of the block, and I just came running.’

‘We’re all fine, Amanda, don’t worry,’ Jim reassured her.

‘Patel, report.’

‘It’s over, sir, or at least we think it is,’ Patel said tremulously, eyes wide and haunted. ‘There was one person… one person devoured, five bitten. All taken care of now.’

‘Any of them doctors?’ Jim asked, voice tight with worry.

His shaky sigh drowned out Spock’s own relieved exhalation when Patel shook his head, phaser still clutched in his hand.

‘One nurse, I think. The rest were patients.’

_Should I feel bad for being slightly relieved?_

_No, Jim. It is natural to be more concerned about a loved one than a stranger._

Captain Pike’s expression was grim as he listened to Patel’s stuttered explanation. Although he did not express it, Spock was well aware of his anger, although Jim’s, of course, was much more salient.

‘Right, come on, let’s go. We have to make one hundred percent sure that we’re infection-free and that the remains are quarantined.’

‘Amanda, would you take the kids?’ Jim asked quietly. ‘I need… I need to help.’

‘Of course, darling, that’s fine.’

‘You can stay in my office,’ Captain Pike offered, as Spock carefully handed Theodore over, taking him out of the sling before draping the loop of fabric over his mother’s shoulder. Incredibly, the baby hadn’t yet woken, for which Spock was immeasurably grateful. ‘Feel free to lock the door while we’re gone. I’m going; catch us up.’

As Pike left with Patel and Lewinsky in tow, Jim attempted to hand Liora over. She fussed when Jim made to put her down, falling just short of screaming, but it was clear that she was certainly displeased. Spock plucked her straight from Jim’s arms before she could take another fuelling breath, and held her so that she was looking straight into his eyes. Hers were teary and frightened, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching at him with the desperation only a child could convey, he pressed his lips to her temple.

‘We will return shortly, Liora. You must stay with Nana whilst we are gone, but we _will_ come back for you.’

She was still reluctant to release him when he placed her on the floor, fingers tightening on his shirt, but she took Amanda’s hand when prompted. Spock waited until they were safely ensconced in the office before leaving the administrative block with Jim, his t’hy’la’s urgency burning through the bond as they ran.

_I know Patel said Bones is fine, but I just- I need to see._

_Yes, Jim, I understand. I, too, am keen to ascertain his wellbeing._

Though the campus was usually rather barren, this afternoon, it was entirely empty but for the cadets acting as sentries. Jim’s anxiety was overwhelming, but none of it showed outwardly, and by the time the medical centre was in sight, his expression was frozen in a mask of determination. There were no signs of a struggle outside, apart from a single, bloody smear on an outside window, a handprint smudged in such a way that suggested someone had either fallen as they reached it, or been dragged away. Spock was well aware that the latter was much more likely.

Two cadets stood before the main entrance; one chalk-white with a reddened mark on her cheek that would surely bruise, the other with a chunk of hair torn from his head, bloodied scalp visible underneath. Wordlessly, they stepped aside to let them through, but Jim stopped in the open doorway, turning back to them.

‘Have you two been treated?’

As one, they nodded, the female’s hand rising to brush against her cheek.

‘Nurse Chapel has given us pain relief, and gave Thomas something to prevent infection.’

As her name was spoken, Jim’s relief came roaring back, eclipsing his previous misery in a way that made the knot in Spock’s stomach loosen considerably.

‘Great. What’re your names?’

‘I’m Cadet Greene, this is Marlborough.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Jim said politely, flashing them a winning smile. ‘I’ll make sure you’re relieved soon, alright?’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Greene replied, angling her body in a way that made her attraction to Jim clear.

Briefly consumed by jealousy, Spock gave them both a firm nod and turned to leave, knowing that Jim would follow.

_Hey. Hey, you know I would **never** go near her, sweetheart._

**_I_** _know that,_ Spock said stiffly, dropping back so that Jim could lead him down the bloodstained corridor towards the open ward door on the far right. **_She_** _does not._

When Jim sighed, Spock’s stomach turned. His possessive Vulcan side urged him to eliminate any threats to his claim on his mate, but his human side was deeply ashamed of that primal compulsion, filling him with guilt. Even worse, Jim seemed to be exasperated with him, which compounded his previous nausea.

All of that was forgotten, though, when the door just before the ward opened, and two cadets in hazmat suits exited one of the private care rooms, carrying between them a mutilated corpse. Its face was gone, muscle and skull exposed due to the flesh having been chewed away, and the only possible indicator of gender came in the form of the remaining blood-mattered hair, the body stripped to the bone. Jim’s horror matched his own as they moved backwards to allow the cadets to come through, exposing themselves to the carnage within the room. This was the window they had seen from outside, but that single, bloody handprint had not prepared Spock for the scene within, of those still wearing shredded hospital gowns, viscera caked around their mouths, and livid bite marks visible on each still body.

_‘God,’_ Jim whispered, drawing closer to him in an apparently unconscious need for comfort. Were he to have believed in a deity, Spock might have said the very same. Very much aware that they were in public, he attempted to use the bond to calm him, but Jim, angry and distraught, refused to be comforted. ‘No, Spock. I won’t let you anaesthetise me against this.’

Jim’s voice was clipped, his emotions a storm within the bond, and before Spock could reply, he had stalked from the room. Hurt, but not wishing to add to Jim’s considerable turmoil, Spock concealed the feeling behind shields he had not been required to use since their bonding, and followed.

‘Bones!’ he heard Jim cry as he entered, before seeing his bondmate fly at the aforementioned doctor, embracing him tightly.

‘Yeah, yeah, kid, I’m fine. Now stop squeezin’ me, my ribs can’t take that shit.’

Spock approached more slowly, hovering in the background as Jim greeted Nurse Chapel with similar enthusiasm. In the far corner of the room, Captain Pike was speaking to four red-faced cadets, so quietly that Spock could not hear the content of their conversation. Apart from the medical staff milling around, there were only two individuals in civilian clothes, which Spock took to mean that there had been fewer people involved in the attack than was first feared.

‘Hey, Pointy, y’alright? You look a little lost.’

Spock turned towards the doctor with an eyebrow raised, taking in the folded arms and cantankerous expression with an unexpected wash of fondness.

‘I am fine, Leonard,’ he replied, automatic in his use of the word. ‘You are the one who has been in danger. Are you well?’

Leonard nodded grimly, leaning back against a biobed.

‘Nothin’ happened to me. I was upstairs with a boy with kidney stones when I heard the screamin’, and by the time I got down, it was all over. Hey, look, I think Jimmy wants you.’

When Spock looked round, Jim had returned to his side, guilt subtly beginning to trickle through their connection.

‘C’mon, let’s go help Chris out,’ Jim murmured, smiling quickly at Leonard before guiding Spock over to the increasingly heated conversation in the corner, one hand ghosting over the small of his back.

‘You are meant to check for infection at the first gate, you know that. What on Earth possessed you to forgo that?’

‘We’re sorry, sir,’ a short, squat Andorian said miserably, antennae drooping.

Jim took his place beside the Captain, barely acknowledged by the man whose voice was steadily rising in volume, and Spock stood on Jim’s left, their mutual pity for the cadets and anger at their lax behaviour shared and amplified by the bond.

‘An apology won’t bring back the six people who lost their lives today. One of them was seventeen years old. Seventeen. He thought he was safe here. His _family_ thought he was safe, and now how do you think they feel?’

‘Don’t you think we already know that?’ the red-haired cadet beside the Andorian exclaimed, her freckled, tear-stained face scrunched up in anguish. ‘Do you think that’s going to help us sleep better, o-or do a better job next time? We know, okay! The guy was obviously trying to hide it, and yes, we should have done a more thorough job, and perhaps if we weren’t so overworked, we _would_ have.’

The room seemed to hold its breath in the wake of her outburst. Mildly shocked by the cadet’s insubordination, Spock waited for Captain Pike’s rebuttal, but it never came. The Captain’s previous anger melted from his face, replaced with something Spock could not identify, and in the silence left behind, Jim took over.

‘We’re doing the best we can… Donoghue, isn’t it?’ he asked, to which the cadet nodded hastily, flushing. ‘I know you’re all tired, and you’ve all lost loved ones, but this is the situation we’re in, and we’ve got to deal with it. Yes, it’s difficult, and yes, you’ll be thinking about these people for a long time, but we can’t let this happen again. If you’ve been checked out, go and get some rest. We’ll let you know how we’re going to deal with this. Dismissed.’

Spock, impressed with his bondmate’s diplomacy, remained silent. Subdued, the cadets filed out in a haphazard line, and Captain Pike blew out a long, slow breath. He looked tired, more so than everyone else, which unsettled Spock.

‘Thank you, Jim,’ the Captain said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘They’re right. This is my fault.’

‘It is not,’ Spock argued, disliking seeing a man so sure of himself falter. ‘You cannot control the actions of others.’

‘He’s right,’ Jim added, taking hold of Pike’s bicep and squeezing. ‘You’re making the best of a bad situation. But I do think we should up security. Maybe put someone from medical at the main gate, and impress on the others how important it is that they check.’

‘That’s not a bad idea, but we’ll need to okay it with everyone.’

‘One sec.’

Jim caught Leonard’s attention easily, and beckoned him over with an energetic arm movement. Rolling his eyes, Leonard complied with the unusual summons, pushing a hypospray into the neck of an unsuspecting Jim as he approached.

‘Ow! What was that for, you sadist?’

Unrepentant, Leonard capped the hypospray and slid it into his pocket.

‘Preventative antihistamine, since you’re allergic to everything on God’s green earth. You can cry about it on Spock’s lap later, when I’ve got no chance of seeing you do it.’

‘Oh, I think I could arrange something,’ Jim teased.

Spock shared in his amusement as Leonard’s jaw ticked, a familiar scowl twisting his reddening face.

‘No, thank you. I’ve seen enough to make me sick today. Whaddaya want?’

‘You have a radio in the clinic, don’t you?’ Captain Pike asked, continuing when Leonard nodded. ‘Great. What do you think about sending someone up to the gate when we have new arrivals?’

‘Fine by me,’ Leonard drawled. ‘My nurses won’t have any qualms about strippin’ ’em nude to check if they’re tellin’ the truth about being clean.’

Jim snorted, and as he and Leonard descended into yet another argument, Spock was glad that his t’hy’la had a friend such as this; loyal, trustworthy, and belligerent enough to avoid cossetting him. With an uncomfortable ache in his chest, Spock could not help but wish for Leonard’s friendship also, despite his close relationship with Nyota.

_Bones does care about you, you know,_ Jim said softly, interrupting his uncomfortable musings. _All his sniping – it’s how he shows affection, the weirdo._

Nodding, but remaining secretly unconvinced, Spock agreed to Captain Pike’s request to retrain the cadets (‘because nobody’s going to piss around in a Vulcan’s class’), and let the matter lie.

Hours later, when the grim day was at an end, and the children had been put to bed after much holding and comforting, Spock lay in Jim’s arms, pensive and quiet. Despite both knowing that Jim loved him dearly, and that he had not meant to be cruel with his words, hurt still throbbed behind the shield he had created. It felt like failure. Having been busy all through the afternoon, he had had little opportunity to be alone with his bondmate, but now, Jim’s attention was firmly on him.

‘Spock, is there something wrong with the bond?’ he asked softly, anxiety bubbling in his voice and his mind.

Alarmed, Spock performed a rapid assessment of their connection, finding nothing amiss.

‘I do not believe so. Why?’

Jim scooted down in the bed until their heads were level, biting his lip.

‘I dunno, I… I just feel like there’s something closed off?’

Understanding immediately, Spock was surprised by Jim’s perceptiveness.

‘I believe you are referring to the shields I erected this afternoon,’ he replied quietly, dropping his gaze. ‘I am sorry for my earlier behaviour, Jim. I do not mean to be controlling.’

Jim shook his head dismissively, worry clear in his eyes as he cradled Spock’s left cheek, a thumb rhythmically stroking over his cheekbone.

‘What were the shields for? Show me.’

‘I-’

‘Show me, t’hy’la. Please.’

With a weary sigh, Spock closed his eyes and let them drop, not wishing to see Jim’s reaction to his self-pity. As the deluge of his emotions broke from their bindings, Jim let out a wobbly ‘oh!’, and a deep sense of guilt added itself to the mess. Spock jerked in surprise when soft lips met his in an infinitely gentle kiss, and when he opened his eyes, those that met his were shining with moisture.

‘I’m so sorry, love,’ he whispered, moving so that he was hovering over Spock, his weight on his knees and elbows. He took Spock’s face between his hands, staring mournfully at him. ‘Taking it out on you was a really shitty thing to do. I love you no matter what, you know that, don’t you?’

Spock nodded, prising one of Jim’s hands from his face so that he could press their paired fingers together.

‘And I you, ashal-veh. I did not mean to be an irritation.’

‘God, Spock,’ Jim choked, his guilt amplifying within the bond. ‘You’re not an irritation at all! I’m sorry I made you feel that way.’

He leant down and kissed Spock deeply, lacing their fingers together. Spock closed his eyes as Jim licked into his mouth, relishing in the slow tangle of tongues and wet slide of lips, and the boundless love that soaked into him like sunlight, like the warmth of the desert outside ShiKahr, which he so dearly missed. Still, he had this bright beauty, this precious, unexpected family, and despite the horrors of the outside world, there were moments in which Spock could almost forget that Terra had fallen, and that the Federation had abandoned its people to their fate. Not today, though. Not quite.

In addition to the tragedy that the day had brought, after his musings about friendship that afternoon, Spock had unfortunately found himself dwelling on the misery brought to him by his peers. He was not sure why witnessing that particular interaction between Jim and Leonard had adversely affected him, having seen them together countless times before, but even he could not prevent the existence of intrusive thoughts. Having concealed his torment behind his newly-dropped shields, he was now keenly aware that Jim knew about his past returning to haunt him, especially since Jim was proving particularly poor at controlling his aggressive thoughts towards his persecutors.

‘You’re worth a million of them,’ Jim murmured against his lips, pressing suckling kisses there periodically. ‘They’re the scum of Vulcan. Narrow-minded idiots. And you’re perfect exactly the way you are.’

_‘T’hy’la,’_ Spock murmured, cheeks heating as Jim pulled back, staring intently at him.

‘Will you share your memories with me?’ he asked, hands stroking reverently over Spock’s flanks, then dipping under the long-sleeved t-shirt Spock wore to repeat the motion. ‘I want to see what those bastards did to you.’

One warm hand rubbed Spock’s stomach gently, and Spock shuddered beneath it, rolling onto his side so that they faced one another, their noses mere inches apart. He raised a hand to Jim’s face, who kissed his palm before allowing him to settle his fingers on the meld points, and after closing his eyes under the intensity of that loving gaze, joined their minds.

Just as Jim’s consciousness resembled a sunlit meadow, possibly the long-forgotten remnant of an early memory, Spock’s own resembled the desert he had spent so much time alone in as a child. The sand beneath their feet was red and burning, the sun high in the sky, but Jim would not burn here.

_You okay, sweetheart?_

Jim whispered the question into his ear, pressing his front against Spock’s back and wrapping his arms tight around his waist. Spock was uncertain about the parameters of the word ‘okay’, but he nodded nonetheless, and like taking the first step off a diving board, he plunged them into the memories of his youth.

_At the age of three, S’chn T’gai Spock has neither lost his baby fat, nor a number of human characteristics which had been passed onto him by his mother. Last night, she had argued with Sa-mekh, pleading with him to let him keep her baby at home, but he had insisted that he learn how to be with others, so they had come to the nursery._

_[What a cutie pie,_ Jim cooed, as Spock toddles into the recreation area, looking uncertainly back at his mother, who waves with tears in her eyes.]

_Having never previously interacted with his peers, Spock is interested in doing so, and thus, wanders over to a group of children who were fitting together mathematical puzzles. Although perhaps they stare at his eyes for a little too long, they seem to accept him well enough. At least, until he completes a puzzle himself, and lets out a delighted laugh as it speaks aloud the simple equation he had been forming. The nursery room had been quiet throughout; now, it is silent. As children and instructors alike **stare,** Spock is at once fearful, embarrassed, and miserable, and the maelstrom of emotions only increases as, one by one, the children inch away from him. Spock’s eyes fill with tears as an instructor approaches, staring dispassionately down at him._

_‘Human displays of emotion will not be tolerated,’ she says coldly, and already, Spock can see that he will not be accepted here._

_You were three!_ Jim hissed, tightening his grip. _How could they do that to you?_

_Prejudice begins young on Vulcan,_ Spock replied miserably, bringing forth his another recollection.

_He is seven point two Vulcan years of age, and he is about to be unwillingly betrothed. His parents rarely argue, logic and reason often winning out over Mother’s emotionalism before a conversation can escalate, but ever since Spock admitted that this was an unpleasant course of action, he had frequently overheard them quarrelling. Despite the fact that he knew this to be tradition, and also that preliminary bonding was necessary for a future event that neither parent would yet divulge, Spock was opposed to it, not least because of the girl he was to be betrothed to. The girl in question, named T’Pring, was the daughter of another High Council member, and despised Spock with an intensity which was remarkably hypocritical, given her blatant xenophobia. If Spock were to admit to emotion – which he so rarely did, due to the reception he received from anyone apart from his mother - he would perhaps admit that the feeling is mutual._

_When he is bid to do so, Spock reluctantly climbs the dais where T’Pring is already waiting, her face a perfectly blank mask. While both sets of their parents wait below the platform, Spock, dressed in his itchy ceremonial robes, approaches T’Pring, and the adept reaches to join them. Spock dislikes what he sees in T’Pring’s mind, but her reaction is altogether more visceral. Pulling herself from the meld, she stares, revulsion spilling from their dissipating connection into her eyes._

**_‘Human,’_ ** _she hisses, and when all is said and done, Spock can only see the lingering disapproval in Sarek’s otherwise stony expression, making him feel more inadequate than ever._

Jim’s fury was beginning to boil over, but his kiss to Spock’s throat was gentle and loving.

_Your mind is beautiful, darling,_ he murmured. _I don’t care what anyone says._

_As is yours, ashaya._

There were many, many more memories that Spock could have shown him, but while he skipped quickly past a number of instances which only increased Jim’s outrage, there was one final memory that had plagued him since its inception. Giving into the need to touch his bondmate, he curled his hands around the arms that held him, fingers pressing into Jim’s muscular biceps.

_He is twelve point three five Vulcan years of age, and yet again, he is surrounded. The instructors are wilfully blind to his torment, his father disapproving, and his mother despairing, but nobody has yet intervened. Stonn is the ringleader of the primary group which attacks him almost daily, and today is no exception. Tall, slim, and hostile to a fanatical point, Stonn begins the tirade._

Jim growled into his ear as the insults grew evermore hurtful, stroking his stomach in a gentle, soothing motion.

_‘You're neither human nor Vulcan, and therefore have no place in this universe.’_

_How fucking **dare** they? _Jim snarled, but Spock shushed him, heart hammering as they reached the culmination of that final memory, after the fighting was done, and Spock was alone in his bedroom.

**_‘No place in this universe.’_ **

_The words echo in his head, and Spock allows his tears to fall, dribbling down his cheeks in a way that would elicit only mockery and revulsion from anyone but his mother. He is battered and bruised, and his emotions seem to bulge against his shields, a strange pressure building in his head, static buzzing in his ears. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps his existence is an abomination. He is not Vulcan enough for father, nor human enough for mother. He has no friends, no companionship, and no equals. With shaking fingers, he picks up the ceremonial knife gifted to him on his eleventh birthday._

Jim seemed to stop breathing. Spock could hear his heartbeat rise into a frenzy, and the strangled gasp leave his lips.

_He presses the very tip of the knife against his ulnar artery, and presses down ever so slightly. The pain is as sharp as the knife, pulling him roughly from the miserable numbness that had taken hold, and when he withdraws it, blood spurts from the small wound. Panicking, Spock wraps his nightshirt around his wrist and watches fearfully as violent green seeps into the fabric, but after twelve point three minutes, he can detect no further growth in the bloodstain. Though he knows he must clean himself up, must hide the evidence of his shame before anyone can find and weaponise it, he remains where he is for an indeterminate time longer, self-loathing clawing at the shields he so desperately needed to strengthen._

Without warning, Spock pulled them from the meld, closing his eyes tightly as shame enveloped him anew. Shock was Jim’s dominant emotion, but Spock could not determine how he would react once that had subsided. Trembling, he flinched infinitesimally when a warm hand cupped his cheek, a gentle finger tracing over the edge of his ear.

_Look at me, t’hy’la._

Spock complied with only the barest hesitation, a jolt of terrible guilt passing through him as he saw Jim’s tears sliding down his face, those leaving his right eye being drawn by gravity across the bridge of his nose and down into a growing damp patch on the bed.

_Jim, I am sorry._

‘No, love, shshshhh,’ Jim whispered, swiping a thumb across his cheek. It was only then, as the wetness there was disturbed, that Spock realised he had also been crying. ‘It’s alright. I love you. It’s alright.’

Spock shivered, going willingly into Jim’s arms as he held them out in welcome, nuzzling his cold nose into the juncture between Jim’s neck and shoulder. Both of them were shaking, but Jim recovered first, drawing in a stuttered, mucus-clogged breath before pulling back to press a series of soft kisses against his crown.

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart,’ Jim choked, trembling hands moving restlessly over Spock’s body, as if to reassure himself of his continued existence. ‘That even for a moment, you felt dying was better than living the life you were, I… _fuck.’_

His voice cracked as he buried his face in Spock’s hair, holding him so tightly that for a moment, Spock found it almost impossible to breathe.

‘Ashal-veh,’ he gasped, turning ever so slightly in order to regain lung function, ‘I am no longer in any danger of attempting to harm myself. Please do not cry.’

The bone-crushing embrace loosened somewhat as Jim took his face between his hands and kissed him fiercely. Spock poured himself into it, still needing comfort, despite his reassurances. He had not thought about that particular evening in a very long time, but the emotions attached to the memory were as clear as if it had occurred that day.

When Jim pulled back, face blotchy and eyes red-rimmed, he released Spock’s cheek and took up his hand, tilting it into the light until his fine-boned wrist was exposed. The thin, white scar there was barely visible, but there all the same. Jim pressed his lips to it gently, thick eyelashes dusting his cheeks as his eyes closed for a moment, but then he looked up, a great sadness in his eyes as he pulled away.

_Taluhk nash-veh k’dular,_ Spock whispered, and Jim murmured his reply against his lips, before releasing his wrist.

Jim’s philtrum was shiny with what Spock presumed was a mixture of nasal mucus and tears, and with a quiet sigh, he reached forward to remove the mess with his hand, wiping what remained on Jim’s discarded shirt at the foot of the bed.

‘That’s gross,’ Jim said fondly, blushing pink.

Spock was rather fond of that particular shade. He raised an eyebrow, holding his arms out, and Jim snuggled into him quite happily, wrapping himself around Spock as he was wont to do.

‘Probably best sleepin’,’ he yawned, as Spock ordered the lights down. ‘Theo’ll be up in a bit. Need a bottle.’

Spock nodded, despite the fact that Jim would not be able to see it. Although he had meditated the evening before, unsurprisingly, he still felt somewhat unbalanced, and would likely have to do so again before Jim woke in the morning. As it was, the tumultuous emotions that he had experienced in seeing the carnage of the outbreak and sharing his most secret memory with Jim had left him feeling vulnerable.

‘Turn round,’ Jim murmured, and when he complied, Jim pressed up tight against his back, lacing their fingers together over his stomach. Immediately, Spock felt more secure. ‘Did you… did you ever tell your mom?’

The question was asked without judgement, soft and neutral.

_No, t’hy’la. You are the first to know._

Jim kissed his nape tenderly, bare chest and legs pressed up against him. Despite how the day had worn on him, the comfort of being held by his bondmate, and the wonderful heat radiating from Jim’s body were enough to bring him back to a state conducive for rest.

_Night, Spock. I love you._

Fifteen years and many light years away from his tormentors, his beautiful t’hy’la holding him close, Spock experienced no difficulty in allowing his body to relax into sleep.

‘And I you, Jim.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even Spock has bad days. Really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a comment to let me know what you thought! Every one puts a smile on my face, I swear :) If you want to contact me, you can find me at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), and I hope everyone has a good weekend!


	18. Eyes Turned Skyward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days early - I think that's a record for me! There's a fair amount of gore threaded throughout the second half of this chapter, so please be mindful if you're sensitive to that sort of thing <3

Stardate 2261.78. 0908 hours. KL interviewing CP.

Christopher Pike is a legend amongst the survivors of the Terran plague, almost as beloved to the crew as Jim and Spock seem to be. Born to farmer parents in California, he excelled first in school, then in Starfleet when he joined, meeting and marrying Angela (known commonly as Number One) on board one of the many ships he served on before settling down in San Francisco. She was lost early on, when the outbreak was a new and frightening thing, but Christopher survived to become an integral part of the Starfleet survival effort. Having obtained the rank of Captain before the plague began, Christopher was crucial in upholding the Academy settlement for so long, and was given the title Admiral in the aftermath of the last major attack on campus, during which he lost his left leg.

I wanted to ask you about your wife, but I’m not sure that you’d be willing to talk about her.

_[His expression is carefully neutral, not blank like Spock’s so often is, but detached. When I mention Angela, however, the corner of his mouth tugs down sourly.]_

CP: You’re right. I’m not. I don’t even talk to _Jim_ about her, so why would I talk to a stranger?

Point taken. What about Jim then?

CP: What about him?

From what I’ve heard, you seem to care about him a lot.

_[He nods distractedly, brow creasing.]_

Why is that?

_[He snorts.]_

CP: I defy _anyone_ not to like Jim Kirk, once they get close enough. He was a bit of a mess when I met him. Life dealt him a terrible hand, and he was coping with that the wrong way. I saw the potential in him, though. He was barely more than a boy, but I could see it, and he’s proved me right since. He’s a great Captain, and a great father too.

So I’ve heard. Were you close at the Academy?

CP: Yeah, we were. I helped him out as best I could when he had trouble. Ange- _[he breaks off, swallows, then begins again more quietly]_ Angela and I had him over a few times when things were particularly rough. Kid was pretty difficult to try to look after, you know. I’m not saying he brought it on himself, because he didn’t, especially not with Mi- _[He breaks off again, shaking his head.]_ He didn’t, but he’s always found it difficult to trust people. Never really had anyone to rely on, so he got used to patching up his own wounds. I’d like to think that Leonard, Spock and I have gone some way to helping him change that habit.

Were you excited to see him again?

CP: _[incredulously]_ Of course I was! Spock too, of course, because we’d known each other for years as well, and I was delighted to meet the kids. But I care for Jim immensely, and seeing him again was the first thing that had made me smile in a very long time.

How many attacks were there on the Academy campus?

CP: I never counted, to be honest. There were a few very minor invasions of campus before Jim’s arrival, but they only increased in frequency and severity as time went on. I’m sure that Jim’s already told you about the first really bad one we experienced, when a man turned in the medical centre?

CP: Well, there were more, no matter what we did. There simply weren’t enough of us to keep them out, not forever. It was like they could smell us; we ended up letting fewer and fewer people in, because the gates were jammed with the stinking things. They slipped through weak areas around the perimeter, bit guards on duty, and once, a bitten girl climbed over the fence while no one was looking. We did our best, and few civilians were killed – at least, in those minor attacks.

What made you decide to leave in the end?

_[He sighs, hand resting, perhaps unconsciously, on the stump of his left leg.]_

CP: We’d been talking about it for a while. Leaving wasn’t something that any of us wanted to do, but it was becoming increasingly clear that we had to consider it. I suggested the Enterprise, and at first, it seemed like an absolute last resort. Jim and his group making the journey from Iowa was hard enough, but with a hundred people to look after? Nigh on impossible. Unfortunately, about two and a half months after Jim arrived, it became something we had to seriously think about.

The final attack?

CP: _[nods, eyes closed]_ The final attack.

* * *

Chris had never been a ‘breathing easy’ sort of person, and especially not since Angela died. When he’d raced home on that final, terrible evening, the undercurrent of fear on campus having forced him to make the choice between Angela’s wellbeing, and those of his colleagues, he had been far, far too late. The drive home had been eerily quiet, as if it had been the middle of the night instead of six o’clock in the afternoon, the usual chokeholds of traffic absent, and those hovercars that did pass went by at an unnatural speed, leaving Chris’ stomach aching with dread. He hadn’t parked the hovercar, just left it in the road when he saw the front door wide open, spatters of blood leading up the drive. He’d killed his first Infected that night, when he’d found it in the kitchen pulling strips of flesh from what used to be his wife. He wasn’t aware of having made a noise, but he must have done, because it had turned, gore dripping from its mouth, and he had shot it without thought. He didn’t remember what it had looked like. Only Angela mattered, but there had barely been anything left of her. Certainly not enough to hold.

She had fought; he knew that. Once he’d buried her remains in the back garden, bitter tears running down his face and nose and throat, he’d wandered dazedly back into the house, and looked, really _looked_ at what had been left behind. The cutlery drawer had been wrenched right out of its fitting, a bloodied handprint on the floor beside the mess of silver, as if Angela had been on her knees searching it, and when he’d finally dragged out the other wretched corpse, he’d found a knife buried to the hilt in its shoulder. She’d fought.

Numb with grief, he’d spent the next few weeks holed up at home, doing absolutely nothing but drink and cry as the world went to shit, his touchstone, his reason for living, gone. He’d thought about Jim often, but he assumed that he had died – sure, Jim was a great fighter, but so was Angela, and that hadn’t made any difference. Eventually though, the cloud of grief had lifted just enough for him to realise quite how lonely he was, and evoked a new, if weak, sense of determination in him. He hadn’t seen a living soul since the first week of his self-induced isolation, and the Academy cadets played on his mind. They still felt like his responsibility, even if there was no command structure anymore.

It had taken him almost a week to get back onto campus, and he was greeted with relief by those he found, as if he could fix everything. He couldn’t, of course. Nobody could, but he did his best, and in the beginning, they’d managed to rid the whole of campus from the filth. Slowly, but surely, however, the bastards had crept back, and now their little settlement was seriously threatened – and outnumbered. Still, they hadn’t had an incident in a week, which, going by the standards of the world now, was goddamn miraculous.

After a brief meeting with Jim and Spock that morning, Chris had let them go to hand off the kids to Yeoman Rand before they all made an inspection of the perimeter with Scotty, who had certainly proved his worth in the time he’d been there. In the meantime, Chris was in one of the liberated teaching buildings along with Amanda, and Nyota, who split her time between working with Scotty on the radios, and teaching xenolinguistics to the children. There were now nearly thirty minors on campus, and with many of them at school age, Amanda had suggested that she take the lead in educating them. It was difficult to sort out a curriculum for such diverse age groups - one or two of the older ones were uncooperative - but for the most part, it seemed to be giving the children some stability.

Passing by a classroom in which five teenagers were studying unattended, Chris rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles before wandering in. Four of them offered him polite smiles over their textbooks, but the fifth, a glowering, square-jawed brunet, flicked apathetic eyes from the stick figure he was carving into a table to his own.

‘Good morning,’ Chris said pleasantly, determined not to pander to attention-seeking. ‘How are you all doing?’

There was a general murmur of pleasantries, but that was mostly drowned out by the boy’s snort.

‘Just peachy.’

Irritated, Chris watched the others exchange long-suffering eye rolls, and addressed him.

‘I’m not fond of your attitude, kid.’

‘Yeah?’

The boy stood angrily, hands curling into fists.

‘Jack, sit _down,’_ the girl beside him snapped. ‘You’re an idiot!’

‘No, _you_ are! _I’m_ not fondof the way you have us sitting here, studying for exams that don’t exist anymore, when this place is falling the fuck apart! Those things killed my mom!’

‘And they killed my wife, and many more besides!’ Chris barked, watching Jack flinch with a twinge of regret. ‘I don’t want you to be helpless, which is why you have self-defence classes, but you’re not only civilians, you’re civilian minors. I have a responsibility to you twice over.’

‘But I could help,’ Jack protested weakly. ‘I could help, and I’m just sitting here doing trig.’

Chris sighed, the anger dissipating in favour of weary understanding.

‘You can help me by staying safe. By learning. We might need you to have that knowledge in the future, to help rebuild some semblance of Starfleet. I know you’re frustrated, but until you’re 18, you’re under our care, and we’ll do our best to protect you from what’s out there. I’m not trying to be a dictator, Jack. I’m trying to keep you all safe.’

Cowed, Jack swayed uncertainly where he stood, eyes still narrowed.

‘I know I haven’t got the proper training yet, but can’t I at least be put on guard duty when I’m done with school? Or be given a weapon?’

‘Not yet,’ Chris heard, and he turned to see Jim strolling through the classroom door, Spock at his side.

‘Look… Jack, is it?’ Jim asked, not waiting for an answer before he continued. ‘I get it, alright? You’re angry, and you’re frightened-’

‘I’m not!’

‘You are,’ Jim said gently. ‘That’s nothing to be ashamed of; we all are. I have a family, I have two very small children, and the world is no longer a safe place. That’s enough reason for anyone to be scared. I understand that you feel like you need to do something, but right now, the best thing for us all is to have you here.’

Jack’s mouth twisted sourly, but he nodded, and sat down. Beside him, a dark-skinned bespectacled girl leant forward over her textbook, and promptly knocked her glasses case to the floor.

‘Oh sh- never mind. You’re Commander Kirk and Commander Spock, right? I didn’t know you had kids.’

‘Yeah, we’ve got a little girl and a baby boy,’ Jim replied, fatherly pride clear in his wide grin. ‘They’re too young for school yet.’

‘Theo go down alright?’ Chris asked blithely, addressing neither of them in particular.

‘Yes, and rather quickly,’ Spock answered, his shoulder brushing Jim’s as he stepped forward. ‘Liora was marginally more resistant, but yielded in the end.’

‘Great. I just want to check on your mother and the younger ones before we leave. Is Scotty already by Gate One?’

‘He’s on his way there,’ Jim confirmed, gaze returning to Jack. ‘Remember what we said, yeah? We’re not against you, Jack, but if you really want to go on the offensive, you’ll have to wait a few years to do it. And the more you study now, the higher up you’ll get. I studied my ass off at the Academy, and look at me now.’

Jack merely nodded in reply, but he also took hold of his textbook, which was more than Chris had managed to get him to do.

‘See you later, guys,’ he called, as he led Jim and Spock from the classroom, bound for the room at the end of the corridor. ‘Glad you didn’t mention all the drinking and fighting.’

‘Well, I stopped when I got to the Academy, didn’t I? Mostly, anyway. Besides, why the hell would I want anyone to be like what I was as a teenager?’

‘You had, and have, many redeeming qualities, Jim,’ Spock said quietly.

‘Sure, you made some bad decisions, but you couldn’t have had a rougher time of it as a kid, could you?’ Chris added, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Now drop the angst and let’s go see your mother-in-law.’

Jim snorted, rolling his eyes as they entered the classroom, where Amanda and a civilian woman were milling around two tables of children. Amanda greeted them enthusiastically, her face, flushed with pleasure, so different to what it had been upon their arrival at the Academy.

‘Where are the rest?’ Chris asked, noticing that almost half of the older ones seemed to be missing.

‘Nyota has them in the next room along,’ Amanda explained, picking up a fallen pen and handing it to the sheepish, gap-toothed girl who had dropped it. She then turned to the boys, arms folded. ‘Have you given any thought to having Liora here with the other children?’

Jim nodded, expression conflicted.

‘We love you having her, Amanda, but we think she’s a little young yet.’

‘I have begun instructing her in basic mathematics,’ Spock added, and if Chris thought that was a little premature, he didn’t say anything. ‘She is rather gifted.’

‘Okay, well, you know where I am if you change your mind,’ Amanda smiled, turning to a little boy as he tugged on her sleeve.

Chris was about to announce his intention to check on Nyota’s group when his radio crackled, and as he lifted it from his belt, a grainy, terrified shriek could be heard.

‘What’s going on, Carter?’ he asked forcefully, primal fear shooting up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

_‘Sir,’_ Carter choked, clearly scared out of his wits. _‘Another one got through. It bit Beckett, and – oh God! – there are so many of them!’_

‘Alright, Carter, don’t panic,’ Chris said calmly, even if he was anything but. ‘Where are you?’

_‘The mess. They’re mostly outside the mess!’_

‘Lock all the downstairs entrances, now, and retreat upstairs. You shoot from there, and _remember,_ headshots only.’

_‘Yessir.’_

‘Pike out,’ Chris replied, a sickening sort of dread coiling in his stomach as he let the radio fall from his lips.

‘Want me to contact Giotto?’ Jim asked, expression grim. ‘I’ve just told Janice to deadbolt herself in with the kids.’

‘Yes. Get him here to help protect the kids, then Doctor McCoy and a nurse to check people over. Spock, I need you to tell Mr Scott to retreat here as well; if he can swing by and help out at the mess first, that’s great. Then let Uhura know, and bring all the kids in here. I want Giotto here, Uhura, McCoy, the nurse, and Scotty at the main entrance, checking people over as they come in. Amanda, you’re phaser-trained, yes?’

‘To a point,’ she replied, attempting to comfort three crying children at once. ‘Maria is as well.’

‘And us, Captain?’ Spock interjected, eyes on Jim.

‘We’re going to the mess,’ he answered, pushing down the button that would allow him to broadcast on all local frequencies, and raised the radio to his mouth. ‘This is an emergency broadcast. We have an outbreak centred on the mess hall. The children are safe in Cochrane Building. Every civilian who has _not_ been bitten should come here to the Cochrane Building, and you will be checked out to make sure you’re not infected. If you _have_ been bitten, inform your nearest cadet immediately. Cadets, I need you to try and contain the outbreak as best you can. Security has the main responsibility and most knowledge here – listen to them. I will be travelling to the mess along with a number of officers. Stay calm.’

Moments later, as the smaller children were being herded over to the far corner of the classroom in the hopes that at least some would sleep through it, Uhura’s xenolinguistics class arrived, followed by the teenagers they had spoken to earlier. All of them, that was, apart from one.

‘Jack took off,’ the girl from before informed him fearfully, her glasses askew as she shivered. ‘He ran as soon as he heard.’

‘Godammit,’ Chris spat. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about. ‘I know you’re frightened, guys, but if you could help out with the little ones, I’d be eternally grateful. You’ll be safe in here.’

The girl nodded mutely, and she and her companions did as they were asked, Amanda forcing a weak smile as she took her phaser from the desk drawer it had been locked within.

‘You want me at the door, sir?’ Uhura asked, her face tight with the fear that all of them were feeling.

‘Yes, the main entrance, please,’ Chris replied, turning back to Amanda as she deposited a small child in the lap of her elder sibling. ‘Amanda, unless it’s absolutely necessary, don’t open this door for anyone but myself or the boys. We don’t know who’s infected yet.’

‘Of course.’

‘Giotto will be here any minute,’ Jim said hurriedly, replacing his radio and drawing his phaser. ‘Bones is bringing Christine. He says it’s pretty bad from what he can see.’

Nodding tightly, Chris drew his own phaser.

‘You ready, both of you?’

‘We are,’ Spock confirmed, his expression blank as ever, but his voice clipped as he continued. ‘Mister Scott would estimate around thirty infected clustered around the mess. A number of civilians have taken up arms despite your instructions.’

‘I didn’t expect them all to listen when they’ve got family out there. Come on, let’s go.’

‘Good luck,’ Amanda said tremulously, clutching at Spock’s wrist for a long moment before retreating to help calm the mass of frightened children in the corner.

With no time for lengthy goodbyes, Chris nodded, forcing a grimace as he left the room, his new Commanders following behind him.

‘No one in or out unless it’s life or death,’ he told Giotto, who looked braver than he surely felt. ‘I want the children safe.’

They didn’t linger, even at the front door, where frightened civilians were beginning to trickle slowly in. Many of them were in tears, begging them to save their siblings, their children. He could only tell them that he would try his best to do so, unwilling to raise their hopes too high in case they were in vain, but Jim didn’t detach himself, responding to each tearful plea with a sincerity that made Chris’ chest ache.

‘You be careful, Jim,’ Doctor McCoy ordered, sending one dazed young lady off towards one of the lecture halls. ‘You got a family to look after now, and I won’t be best pleased if you go and get yourself bit.’

‘You know I will be,’ Jim said quietly, clasping his bicep and squeezing.

Striding past the cluster of civilians in the foyer, Chris offered his final instructions to Uhura and Scotty, then turned to Jim and Spock. He didn’t want either of them to leave the building. He’d known Spock for years, ever since he had arrived, brilliant and alone, at the Academy. And Jim? Jim was his boy, as close to being his son as he could be without having been brought up by him, and by God, he’d suffered enough already. Neither deserved to die, especially when they’d only just begun a life together.

‘You stay with me, and you stay quiet,’ he said softly, waiting for a nod of confirmation from both before nodding to Uhura, and slipping through the door she held open. Apart from the smack of soles on concrete as a few stragglers ran towards entrance of the Cochrane Building, there was a strange silence, as if even the birds were too frightened to sing. However, as they crept slowly across campus, the faintest echo of screaming could be heard, and their first Feral came stumbling around the corner of the administrative block. Jim was on it first, phaser flashing before Chris even had his raised. He didn’t know the young man, but he certainly knew his uniform, and as he – it – fell face-first onto the concrete, Chris felt a bone-deep sadness for the lives that had already been lost.

‘His name was Thomas,’ Jim whispered, face darkened with grief and anger. ‘He has two sisters here.’

‘Let’s try and make sure no more lives are lost then,’ Chris said quietly, though he knew it was a ridiculous statement. ‘Gamma’s just around the corner.’

They set off running, and the closer they came to the epicentre of the outbreak, the louder the commotion, screams, shouts, and howls of pain interspersed with people desperately calling out names, panicked and shrill. Although they had encountered a few of the infected on their way, it was nothing compared to what they found when they followed the path around to Gamma Block. Their surroundings were filled with scores of reanimated, matched perhaps in number by frightened cadets and civilians, but certainly not in endurance, as human after human fell beneath the relentless advance. The ground was a mess, covered in blood, guts, and ravaged bodies, corpses of all variations sprawled in amongst the melée.

‘Stay with me,’ Chris ordered, immediately on the offensive, and the three of them advanced towards the mess in a tight formation, cutting their way slowly through the reams of infected.

He recognised many of them, cadets and civilians alike, and guilt tore at him. He could have done better than this. Could have found some way to keep them all safe. He nearly tripped over Donoghue, her vivid hair falling across her face as she began to twitch, and he tried not to think about the way she had argued with him as he shot her, her jerky movements coming to an abrupt end. Marlborough was on his knees a few metres away, blood pouring from a bite in his neck, Ferals circumventing him as if they already knew he was one of them. He was in tears, great, heaving sobs making his chest bellow and his breath ragged, and the hand that held his phaser to his head was shaking so forcefully that Chris wasn’t sure he would manage to hit his mark. Pity in his heart, he turned to shoot him when he had the chance, but Spock got there first, putting the cadet out of his misery.

There was fighting on all sides now, phaser fire flashing dangerously close to the uninfected in the panic, cadets hanging from the mess windows and shooting from the roof of Gamma Block as civilians did their best with what weapons they had. Many had fallen, cannibalised or turning, and, as Chris was soon to learn, it took only one distraction to have fatal consequences.

He kicked an Infected away and shot it before it could get to Jim, but it was soon replaced by another, and another, and before long, he was sweating with exertion, dizzy in the heat of the fight. Beside him, Jim and Spock seemed to be doing a little better, but Chris wasn’t about to let either of them get hurt. When a choked-off sound of dismay left Jim’s lips, Chris followed his gaze to see Jack being set upon by a group of former cadets, his agonised scream becoming a wet gurgle as his throat was torn out. Shock and grief paralysed Chris for a moment, which was a mistake. As he stared dumbly at the carnage before him, he felt a searing pain in his left leg and cried out, looking down to find a fallen Feral with teeth sunk into his flesh, tearing it from bone in a swift, easy movement that made Chris howl.

‘Captain!’ Spock exclaimed, and as he shot the Infected before it could do any further damage, Chris was startled by the emotion seeping into his words.

Then, as the extent of the pain finally registered, he realised the gravity of the situation.

Time seemed to stop.

Static filled his ears, a strange buzzing which briefly deafened him, and he staggered, his good leg trying and failing to take his weight. Jim caught him and lowered him to the ground, holding him up with one arm and shooting with the other, Spock circling them both protectively like a mother lion. He was mouthing something – no, speaking– but Chris couldn’t hear him, so consumed by the pain radiating up from his calf. A moment later, however, like the aural equivalent of flicking on a light switch, sound came roaring back. It was only then that he realised he was making noise himself, groaning like a labouring animal as he clutched at the ragged hole in his leg, rocking back and forth. He didn’t feel like he was becoming a monster, but that meant nothing; he’d seen happen it countless times before.

‘Sulu!’ Jim screamed, his voice cracking and his eyes shining with tears. ‘I need your katana, now!’

The words didn’t quite register with Chris, but their desperate tone did, and he squeezed Jim’s hand tight, trying to convey ‘I love you, Jim’, and ‘It’s going to be okay’, and ‘You’re the Captain now’ in one touch.

‘No, no, shhhh, you’ll be fine,’ Jim soothed, squeezing him back, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were desperate and searching as he lay Chris down on the cold concrete, manipulating his legs so the good one was folded beneath him.

‘We’ve got to try, Spock,’ Chris heard him insist, a ragged sort of determination in his voice as a bloodied Sulu raised his katana above him. The death blow he expected never came; instead, Sulu brought the katana down on his thigh, and as indescribable agony tore through him, Chris screamed, and blessedly, passed out.

* * *

 When he woke, there was a warm little body tucked up against his chest. His arm automatically curling around it, he cracked open an eye to find Liora sleeping there, little baby snores leaving her nose. He felt odd, but wasn’t quite sure why yet, fuzzy contentment overriding all else as he stroked his granddaughter’s messy hair. As he shifted, however, his arm brushed a second blond mop; Jim was slumped in a chair beside him, his head pillowed on his arms on the biobed. Smiling fondly, Chris carded a hand through Jim’s hair, long enough now that if it wasn’t combed back, a small section fell over his forehead, curling slightly.

‘Captain?’ Spock, previously gone unnoticed, was sat across the room with the baby – presumably asleep – against his chest. ‘I am gratified to see you awake.’

Chris smiled, but before he could respond, Doctor McCoy came barrelling into the room, tricorder raised.

‘Good, you’re up,’ he drawled, approaching the bed. ‘And thank God Jim’s asleep – I thought I was gonna have to sedate him.’

‘He was concerned,’ Spock said softly, eyeing Chris, and in a sudden flashbulb memory, Chris remembered what had happened before he passed out.

‘Oh God,’ he choked, fear for the others overtaking him as he attempted to lever himself upright. ‘Get Liora and Jim off me! I could turn any minute; I could infect them!’

‘You won’t,’ Doctor McCoy said gently, his expression kinder than Chris had ever seen it. ‘You were bitten three days ago, Captain. In order to prevent the spread of infection, Sulu had to do a field amputation from the knee down. I’m sorry.’

Abruptly, Chris realised that the oddity he had felt – or rather, _not_ felt – was the complete lack of sensation in his lower leg. When he looked down the bed, he saw the tenting of the sheets on his left side end at roughly knee level. Numb with shock, he realised that he could feel a kind of cramp in the foot that wasn’t there, as if he were holding it tense.

‘It… hurts a little.’

‘Yeah, I thought there might be some phantom limb pain when the drugs wore off,’ McCoy replied, depressing a hypospray into his neck. ‘Hopefully that will sort it for now, but we’re best making a mirror box to prevent it from becoming permanent. How are you feeling?’

Still reeling, Chris stared blankly at him for a few seconds before the question registered. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. The cramping pain had disappeared from the space beneath his leg stump, but he now had to adjust to being physically disabled, which, in this world, was a rather terrifying prospect.

‘Fine,’ he lied, noticing for the first time both the exhaustion on McCoy’s face. ‘What happened?’

‘Things are just about under control now. I’ll leave Spock to explain, if that’s alright. I’ve got a shitload of patients.’

Chris nodded, and McCoy left the room as quickly as he had entered, striding into the corridor without another word. Looking to Spock, Chris heard Theo whimper as he began to wake, little fists balling. Spock adjusted him in his arms as he stood, cradling him with a sweetness that never failed to warm Chris’ heart, as he recalled that stiff, sad boy who had arrived in San Francisco all those years ago.

‘Would you hold Theodore for a moment?’ Spock requested, and Chris held his arms out gratefully, laying his grandson against his chest.

The baby grizzled a little, opening his eyes and lifting his head and chest as if he were trying to do a push-up.

‘Alright, Theo,’ Chris soothed, but the grizzling only increased in intensity, and Jim stirred, reaching out sleepily.

‘Izzat my baby boy?’ he mumbled, raising his head. When his eyes focused, he froze, and a wide smile spread across his face. ‘Chris! You’re awake!’

‘I haven’t been for long. What happened, Jim?’

As Theo began to cry in earnest, Jim picked him up and held him close, murmuring nonsense into his tufty hair. When Spock handed over the bottle he had retrieved, Jim took it with a grateful smile, patting the chair beside him until Spock sat in it.

‘When you got bitten, I freaked out,’ Jim admitted, Theo’s cries stopping abruptly as he latched onto the bottle he was offered. ‘If Spock hadn’t’ve been there, I might have been bitten too.’

Chris pretended not to notice the way their fingers stroked together, Jim awkwardly manoeuvring those of the hand that cradled Theo.

‘I hoped that if we took your leg off, you’d live, so Sulu used his katana. God, there was so much blood. I thought I’d killed you anyway, but then Christine was there, and they took you away.’

Jim let out a shaky sigh, dropping a soft kiss against Theo’s head.

‘It was my fault,’ he croaked. ‘If I hadn’t alerted you when I saw Jack-’

‘T’hy’la, you were not to blame,’ Spock said firmly, shifting closer to him.

‘But it might have gone for me if-’

‘Are you asking me to be sorry that it was me, and not you?’ Chris asked, incredulous.

When Jim hesitated, dropping his gaze to the baby, Chris reached forward to cradle his cheek. He looked up, his eyes bright and wet, and Chris felt a rush of affection that momentarily took his breath away.

‘Jim, you’re the closest thing to a son that I’ve ever had, and I love you,’ he said, completely unembarrassed to admit it. ‘I’d die before letting you get bitten. Do you hear me? I’d die. Like I’m sure you’d do for Liora or Theo.’

‘Love you too,’ Jim murmured, flushing.

Theo coughed, spitting up a little milk, and Jim absently wiped his mouth with his sleeve before letting him have the bottle again. Chris let his hand slip from Jim’s cheek.

‘But apart from all that – you’re not _just_ Jim anymore. You’re a husband, and a father, and a damn good ’Fleet officer, and there are plenty of people who look up to you here. I’ve always stayed detached. You get in amongst them. You show them you care.’

‘They look up to you too,’ Jim argued, but a smile was creeping back onto his face. ‘I’m still sorry.’

‘Well, don’t be. It was my own stupid mistake, and I’m still here, alright? I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. What’s been going on?’

‘As Doctor McCoy said, the situation is relatively under control,’ Spock interjected. ‘After you were taken away, Jim used his radio to order a temporary retreat, then to organise the cadets – and the civilians whom refused to leave – into offensive groups, each led by a member of the Security team, or ourselves. Once the outbreak had been contained, the campus was swept for any remaining reanimated, and the bodies of the fallen were buried or burnt, depending on their state of decomposition. Only then were the civilians liberated from the Cochrane Building.’

Impressed, Chris sat back, blowing out a slow, relieved breath. As Liora twitched in sleep, he gently patted her back, feeling her settle with satisfaction. Then he remembered how bad the situation had been when he was bitten.

‘You did well there. How many?’

He knew that they both knew what he was talking about, but Jim was the one to reply.

‘Twenty-three,’ he whispered, his voice barely audible, and Chris could see the guilt written across his face as easily as he himself felt it, churning his stomach and making his chest ache.

He was to blame for this; he should have got things moving earlier. Watching Jim sit Theo up to burp him, he saw Spock’s soft gaze on Jim’s face, and Jim’s eyes rise to meet it, and knew that his words wouldn’t be enough this time.

‘Twenty-three,’ Chris repeated, tone dull and heavy.

He had some decisions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first impressions? I've been planning on doing this to Chris for a while, I'm afraid. I've worked from 7.30-5 today and I'm knackered, but I have two Christmas parties in the next two days, so I thought I'd get the chapter to you earlier rather than later :) I suppose I'll be updating on a Wednesday in two weeks as well, because it's Christmas week, but after that, I think I'll be going back to Fridays because of work. Please comment and let me know what you think - I appreciate each and every single review I get! - and feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like :)


	19. 'Tis Grace Hath Brought Me Safe Thus Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, guys! The chapter's a bit early, but it's better than it being late, I suppose. Enjoy!

Stardate 2261.78. 1534 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

Jim looks rather less tired today, and Theodore is with him again, playing beside him with the assortment of toys presumably made by Mr Scott over the past few years. Even as he speaks to me, Jim has one eye on him, regularly turning in his chair to make sure he’s alright. Perhaps this is merely normal parental behaviour, but I suspect that it is rather more to do with the constant danger his family found themselves in during their time on Terra. This morning, after my interview with Admiral Pike, I discovered something which I am eager to relay to him.

JK: Theo, honey, stay where I can see you, please.

_[The little boy complies, gathering the stuffed toys he had piled up, and coming to play near his father. His long hair falls in his face as he does so, and Jim sweeps it back with a practiced hand.]_

JK: Good boy. _[He turns back to me.]_ I locked my files again, so nobody else can go snooping. Thanks for letting me know about them.

You’re welcome. And listen, I have some good news for you this time round. At least, I think it’s good news.

_[Jim eyes me warily, but then cocks his head in question.]_

You’ll be getting a call through this evening from Infection Control, hopefully, but it seems that your brother will be cleared to see you at the same time as Spock’s father.

_[Jim blinks, clearly astonished.]_

JK: Sam’s coming? I mean, I know he cares and all, but he’s got a really busy job.

That’s what I’ve overheard.

_[A smile spreads across Jim’s face.]_

JK: Awesome. Hey, Theo, you might get to see your Uncle Sam soon!

_[Theo lets out a delighted laugh, which fades as he struggles to open the drink he has with him. He holds it out._

_‘Daddy, pease.’_

_Jim removes the cap and hands the bottle back to him, an indulgent smile on his lips.]_

JK: We haven’t mentioned Sam much, considering that we didn’t know whether we’d ever be able to see him, but the kids know who he is. I’ve missed him.

I’m not surprised. I’m sure he’s missed you terribly too. I spoke to Admiral Pike this morning.

JK: Mhm.

Sounds like the major attack on campus was pretty awful.

JK: Oh, it was. Twenty-three dead – I still remember – and Chris laid up in the medical centre with half his leg off. _[He shakes his head.]_ We dealt with it, as I’m sure he’s already told you, but it wasn’t an easy time for any of us.

Were you frightened for the Admiral?

JK: Of course. We didn’t know if chopping his leg off would make any difference, but I made that call, and I had to deal with the consequences. Luckily, he lived, and he wasn’t mad, but it could have gone very differently.

And afterwards, you started planning to leave?

JK: Yeah.

_[He looks over at Theo as the little boy begins babbling quietly, talking to his stuffed rabbit.]_

JK: I never wanted to leave. Not that I’m the type who’s great at settling in one place forever, but the Academy was the safest we’d been since Des Moines. The kids had a little security there, there were boundaries, and guards, and the prospect of an education. But none of that was enough anymore. We were in real danger, and I wasn’t going to wait around until all the defences collapsed and my people, my _children,_ were killed.

It was around that time that your rank changed, wasn’t it?

JK: Yep. Not how I expected to become Captain, but there it is.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

_It’s the middle of the night, the far-away light of the moon and stars their only defence against the dark, and they are overrun. The children are gone – saved or dead, Jim doesn’t know – and as screams rend the night air, he realises that he’s lost Spock too. A terrible pain lances through the bond and Jim stumbles, clutching his neck as if he himself has been bitten, and thunderous dread takes hold. He cries out Spock’s name, out loud and through the bond, and finds him slumped against the steps that lead to one of the abandoned dorms. There is green blood everywhere, barely visible in the moonlight, and Jim is sobbing already, pawing desperately at his bondmate._

**_Jim,_ ** _Spock whispers, unable to speak. **T’hy’la, leave me. Find safety. Find shelter. The children are in need of you.**_

**_No, no, no, you’ll be fine,_ ** _Jim sobs, but there is too much hot blood staining his hands, too little coherency and focus in dark, warm eyes._

**_Please, ashal-veh. I do not have long. Taluhk nash-veh k’dular._ **

**_Love you too,_ ** _Jim chokes, heart crippled with pain as the bond begins to blacken, like a gangrenous limb that needs amputating. He leans down for a kiss, deluding himself that everything will be fine, but Bones is gone, and Spock turns his face away._

**_No, my Jim. I am sorry. I am infectious._ **

_Even his speech through the bond is weak, and there are tears on both their faces as Spock’s breath begins to rattle in his throat._

**_Please, t’hy’la,_ ** _Spock breathes, his fingers twitching against Jim’s. His eyes close. **Please.**_

_The bond snaps, and Jim wails as agony sears through him, clutching at Spock with bloodied fingers, heedless of the danger around him, and then somebody is saying his name, louder and louder and-_

Jim woke with tears streaming down his cheeks and hands stroking softly across his bare skin, and when his searching eyes found Spock’s, a shaky sound of relief bubbled from his lips.

‘Oh, t’hy’la,’ Spock cooed, wiping away his tears with the pad of his thumb. ‘I am here, do not cry.’

Jim shook, curling into Spock as strong arms came around him, lungs aching as his heart began to return to a normal rhythm.

‘I couldn’t even kiss you,’ he said tearfully, running a hand over Spock’s chest to reassure himself of his presence. ‘You wouldn’t let me kiss you in case I got infected.’

‘I know, Jim. It was a dream, though, and I am still here with you.’

Spock slid two fingers beneath his chin and tilted it up to kiss him, lips gently moving over his, and Jim responded eagerly, threading his fingers into Spock’s hair. Though Spock pulled back after a moment, Jim arched up and kissed him again, arousal beginning to take the place of the violent fear that had choked him in his sleep. Last night, Spock had opened him up with gentle, patient fingers, and made love to him long and slow, and despite the lingering satisfaction within, Jim wanted that closeness again now. His cock was beginning to swell, half-hard already, and when Spock’s tongue slid slickly over his bottom lip, he sucked sweetly on it before tearing his mouth away.

‘I need you,’ he breathed, as Spock trailed wet kisses down his neck. ‘Please, sweetheart, I need you.’

_As you wish, taluhk._

He was still wet, still open from last night, but it appeared that Spock had other ideas than just sinking straight into him - not that it particularly surprised Jim, who had only ever known him to be careful with him during sex. He sucked a line of lovebites into Jim’s neck and chest, eager mouth settling and suckling on his nipples. Jim was beginning to think that Spock had a fixation, but he was definitely okay with that, sighing raggedly as he writhed beneath lips and tongue, cradling Spock’s head to his chest.

_Please, Spock,_ he begged, cock smearing sticky trails of precome against his stomach. _Want you inside me._

Spock’s pupils were blown with arousal as he rose predatorily up the bed, dark, dark eyes catching Jim’s for a second before his lips took Jim’s own, passionate and tender.

‘Turn for me, t’hy’la,’ he whispered, pushing Jim gently onto his belly after a final kiss. ‘Let me do this for you.’

_Do what?_ Jim asked, without nerves, but then Spock lifted him effortlessly to his knees, and a cool, wet tongue swiped over his hole.

Jim keened, scrambling for a pillow to muffle his cries as Spock licked into him, sparks of pleasure fizzling up his spine. Unable to reach Spock’s hands, he clutched at the bedsheets, twisting them in his fists as he rolled his hips back into Spock’s talented tongue, pushing into him in the same rhythm that his cock soon would, and whimpered into the wet fabric beneath his mouth.

_Spock, more._

He whined in disapproval when Spock withdrew, only to then feel a lube-slick finger circle his entrance. He tensed for a split-second, relaxing quickly enough that any other partner wouldn’t have noticed, but Spock did. Of course he did.

‘Peace, my beloved,’ Spock whispered, his boundless love encircling Jim as he rolled onto his back and pulled Jim atop him. ‘I know you like to see my face.’

‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just- I-’

_I know, Jim,_ he said, running two fingers along his face. _Do you wish to stop?_

_No! God, no. I want you, please._

With one hand cupping his cheek, Spock pulled him down for a kiss as the index finger of his other hand pushed gently into him. There was no pain as he worked his way up from one to two to three, the careful preparations of the night before, and Spock’s hyper-awareness of his discomfort easing the way. Weak with pleasure, Jim moaned into Spock’s mouth as those dextrous fingers pressed and stroked at his prostate, and Spock’s slick erection slid deliciously against his own.

‘Now, Spock,’ he gasped, orgasm dangerously close.

Spock sighed as he slipped his fingers out, a soft flush across his face that Jim adored. Reaching for the lube, Jim slid two fingers down his cheek before coating his fingers with it. Spock didn’t need it, seeing as he produced so much naturally, but Jim enjoyed the hiss of Vulcan that left his lips as he pushed his cock through the tight circle of Jim’s fingers, and the overflow of precome that slid down the side of his hand with every upstroke.

_Ashayam,_ Spock growled, hands stroking possessively down Jim’s upper body until they settled on his hips. _Must you tease?_

‘Always,’ Jim laughed, but he let go anyway. He quickly sobered as he took hold of Spock’s erection and lined it up, Spock’s thumbs stroking over the curve of his hips. The moment they joined was never rushed - Jim loving to watch Spock’s expression as they came together, Spock so very careful with him in case he panicked - and this time was no different. Spock’s deep groan reverberated through them both as Jim sank down slowly, his breath shaky and shallow as he was filled. There was a little discomfort, but nothing major, and the feeling of having Spock inside him was incredibly satisfying. He hung his head, arms trembling as Spock bottomed out, and settled both hands on his chest as support.

_Are you well, t’hy’la?_

_Yeah, baby,_ Jim panted, savouring the sight and feel of him. With everything that had been going on, he didn’t think that they’d have much chance to do this in the future, but he didn’t say so, only lifted himself up a little in experimentation, and relaxed when he felt no pain. Rolling his hips, and feeling Spock’s pleasure spike, he soon frustrated himself in his inability to find the right angle. _Help me out?_

Having previously allowed him to move as he pleased without interfering, Spock now angled his hips with very little effort, and began a slow, pulsing rhythm that made Jim’s toes curl.

_‘Yeah,_ just like that,’ he whispered, a whine rising in his throat as Spock found his prostate with practiced ease. Though he tried to keep quiet for the children’s sake, he’d never been good at staying silent. The strangled sounds of pleasure that escaped from his mouth almost drowned out Spock’s quiet moans, and when Spock circled his hips, grinding up against his prostate, he bit his lip to muffle his ragged cry.

_Ashayam,_ Spock gasped, one hand leaving his hip to hover at the side of his face.

Jim roughly sucked in a finger, making him choke, then pressed the hand against his meld points.

_Do it. Want you._

He knew he wouldn’t last long, especially not with Spock inside him in all ways, and when the meld took, as if they were born for this joining, when Spock masterfully targeted the pleasure centres in his mind, heat began to coil in his stomach.

_Don’t stop,_ he begged, anchoring himself on Spock’s chest as he worked his hips desperately, aided by the powerful hand on his hip which pulled him up and down as if he weighed nothing. That in itself was hopelessly arousing, and Jim whimpered, feeling Spock’s pleasure as keenly as his own.

_Let go for me, Jim,_ Spock ordered, hair wild and eyes feverish with arousal as he pushed fluidly into him. _Let me see you fall._

As ever, Jim was unable to disobey. When he came with a fractured sob, spilling over Spock’s belly and chest, Spock’s hiss of satisfaction and clever plucking in his mind were enough to send him spiralling again. He took one hand from Spock’s chest to stroke himself through it, revelling in Spock’s growl as he milked the final drop onto his treasure trail. When he came to, drunk in the afterglow, the tendons in Spock’s neck were corded as he feverishly chased his own pleasure.

_Come on, honey,_ Jim coaxed, rubbing and stroking at the fingers pressed into his hip. _Want you to come for me._

_‘Jim,’_ Spock rasped, his hips losing their rhythm, fingers squeezing tighter.

_That’s it, sweetheart. Come inside me._

_‘Jim!’_

It was just on the cusp of being loud enough to wake the children, but not quite, thank God. Jim watched raptly as Spock arched up, eyes unfocused and pretty lips parted as he thrust upwards a final few times, warm wetness flooding into him. The exhaustion of orgasm settling in his limbs, Jim slumped forward, still impaled as he leant in for a passionate kiss, Spock rising up on his elbows to meet his mouth. They kissed for a long, lazy moment, Spock’s hand falling from his face as they both basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, parting only when Jim’s shaky legs demanded it.

‘Mmm, love you,’ he smiled, as Spock gently slipped out of him and wandered over to the bathroom.

‘I love you too, t’hy’la,’ Spock replied, more than a hint of emotion in his voice as he returned to wipe him down.

Jim watched him adoringly as he did so, stealing kisses here and there, combing down the hair he had messed up. Spock’s eyes were soft, his hands even more so, and Jim melted beneath them, letting Spock move him however he wanted without complaint. When Spock was finished, he disposed of the cloth and got back into bed, pulling Jim immediately into his arms. Jim cuddled into him, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck.

‘Tomorrow’s going to be difficult,’ he mused, worry itching at his mind.

He could feel Spock do his best to sooth it, but it remained there in the background, irrepressible.

‘That is likely,’ Spock admitted. ‘However, we have little choice in the matter now. The situation must be accepted for what it is.’

‘Yeah, I guess. Hey, Spock?’

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘You know what?’

‘What?’

Jim grinned, the thought having come to him whilst he was being cleaned up. He ran a finger down Spock’s forehead until he reached the rounded tip of his nose.

‘Your nose is really cute,’ he said sweetly, leaning up to kiss it.

‘… Thank you, t’hy’la,’ Spock murmured, a faint flush of embarrassment evident through the bond, if not on his cheeks.

Settling back down, Jim played with a whorl of hair covering his nipple as he considered his reaction.

‘Nobody ever said that to you before?’

Spock shook his head.

‘Most Vulcans have angular features. It was another oddity that set me apart from my peers.’

‘Bastards,’ Jim muttered, petting his chest. ‘It’s not an oddity, it’s the cutest thing ever. But then again, I’m biased ‘cause I love you.’

‘As I love you,’ Spock replied, kissing Jim’s crown as he snuggled into him. ‘I believe that resting would be advantageous, considering that Theodore is likely to wake relatively soon.’

Jim nodded, bowing to the heaviness in his eyelids. Calling the lights back down to a comfortable five percent, he curled himself around Spock like the limpet he was.

‘We’d better steal what sleep we can, eh?’

‘Indeed.’

Despite having Spock beside him, which was usually a comfort, Jim’s sleep was particularly restless that night. When Theo cried for a feed at six thirty, he decided to get up for good, entertaining his wide awake little boy by bringing him onto the bed and messing with Spock. Theo chuckled as Jim carefully fluffed up Spock’s hair and pulled funny faces at him, his little baby laugh making Jim do the same until tears seeped from the corners of his crinkled eyes.

Eventually, Spock stirred, eyes opening in slits as Theo’s chubby little hands grasped a chunk of his hair.

‘Good morning, Theodore,’ he greeted, voice gravelly (and, Jim thought, particularly sexy) with sleep. _And good morning to you too, Jim._

_Mmm, morning, t’hy’la,_ Jim smiled, removing Theo’s hand from Spock’s hair as carefully as he could.

Gurgling, Theo reached for his sa-mekh, and with a tiny, rare smile, Spock brought him onto his chest, lying him on his stomach.

‘You will be able to come with us to meet Captain Pike today, as will your sister.’

Babbling nonsensically, Theo reached forwards, and Spock gently captured his little hand, allowing him to guide the movements of his own, much stronger, arm. Jim watched in silence as Spock murmured in Vulcan to their little boy, a fond smile tugging at his lips when he saw how intently Theo seemed to listen.

‘Can you believe Chris, asking whether we would leave them with Janice?’

‘I believe that he was concerned for their safety outside the dormitories,’ Spock replied, sitting up and lying Theo in his lap, handing him a teething rattle that Scotty had made. ‘However, I am certain that they would be safer with us.’

‘Me too,’ Jim agreed, trying to shake the rattle, but Theo’s strong grip prevented him from succeeding very much.

‘He was amenable when I suggested that we would bring them to the meeting. We have fifty-six minutes to prepare.’

Jim nodded, scooping up Theo, rattle and all.

‘Come on, baby,’ he smiled, kissing him noisily until he squealed. ‘Sa-mekh needs to get some pants on.’

He laughed as Spock’s flush of embarrassment flooded across the bond, which, in turn, made Theo giggle.

‘There’s my happy little boy,’ Jim cooed, rubbing his back as he kicked and wriggled. ‘Let’s go see if your sister is awake.’

Forty minutes later, the four of them were outside Chris’ hospital room, Liora clutching at Spock’s leg where she stood. Unlike most two-year-olds, she wasn’t straying from her parents’ side, and Jim wasn’t worried that she would. Unfortunately for her innocence, but fortunately for her safety, even if she didn’t truly understand what had happened to her mother, the fear of it evidently lingered. Spock lifted her onto his hip as the door opened, and a very tired-looking Chris called them in. Bones was beside his bed, fiddling with the dressing that covered the stump of his leg, finally backing away with an expression as near to satisfaction as he ever wore.

‘No sign of infection, thank God,’ he drawled, tricorder mercifully withdrawing. ‘Mornin’, kid. Kid’s husband. Kid’s kids.’

_Why does he insist on calling you a child?_

_He doesn’t mean it literally,_ Jim replied, though he pouted rather childishly when Bones bypassed him to chuck the cheeks of both children. ‘Why don’t I get one?’

Rolling his eyes, Bones did the same to him, then frowned, grasping his face.

‘You look tired. Why?’

‘Nightmare,’ Jim mumbled, huffing in discomfort and cringing away as Bones shone a light into his eye. ‘Hi, Chris. How’re you doing?’

‘Well as I can be, I guess. I need to talk to you both before we get going.’

Beside the bed was a chair that Scotty had cobbled together, an old-fashioned wheel contraption without the anti-grav mechanisms that used to drive hovercars and the like. Chris struggled into the chair as Spock reached out to steady it, and Liora wiggled fiercely until Spock let her sit on Chris’ lap. So distracted by this was Jim that he didn’t notice the hypo until it was almost too late. He couldn’t run like he used to because he had a baby in his arms, but he still let out a theatrical yelp as Bones slammed it into his neck, startling Theo.

‘What was that for?’ he whined, rocking his son in a way that comforted them both.

‘It’s B12 to help you sleep. You had any more allergic reactions recently?’

‘No,’ Jim winced, clasping his neck. ‘Do you have to be so rough?’

‘Oh, don’t be such a baby.’

‘I believe it is a valid request, Doctor,’ Spock said coldly, but when Bones opened his mouth to argue, Chris interrupted.

‘Gentlemen, please,’ he snapped, regret twisting his expression as Liora flinched, scrambling into Spock’s waiting arms. ‘I didn’t- I’m sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that I’ve come to a decision while I’ve been in this bed, and I need to relay that to you before we leave.’

‘Want me to wait outside?’ Bones mumbled, shamefaced.

‘No, you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Just let me talk a minute before you all start butting in.’

Chris sat back, rubbing the stump of his leg, and Jim flicked his gaze uneasily to Spock, comforted slightly by the wave of reassurance that flowed through the bond.

‘I’ve decided to step down from my Captain role in favour of one of you.’

Jim blinked, his shock echoed by Spock, but neither of them spoke as per Chris’ instruction.

‘Your experience alone dictates that you should get the job, Spock. You’re the Academy’s most distinguished graduate, and you’re certainly a very capable officer.’

‘If the rank were offered to me in place of James,’ Spock blurted. ‘I would turn it down.’

_What?_ Jim questioned, stunned. _Why?_

_I have no desire for command, ashayam. All I wish is to be by your side, and I know that you would be an exceptional Captain._

‘You two finished?’ Chris asked, eyebrow raised. ‘I can tell when you’re doing it, you know. As I was saying, Spock, I already know how you feel about command, but I think you’d be an amazing First Officer. And Jim, I think you’d be a _fantastic_ Captain.’

Dizzy with a strange mixture of shock, uncertainty and excitement, Jim looked between Spock and Chris, two sets of loving, understanding eyes meeting his.

‘Chris, you can still lead this group,’ he said softly. ‘You don’t need both legs for that.’

‘It’s not my leg, son. Well, it’s not _only_ my leg. It’s you. They all look up to you in a way that trumps their respect for me by far. My ability to take an active role is now limited – yours isn’t. I want you to take the lead. Be a Captain, Jim.’

Torn between his great respect for Chris and his desire for the Enterprise, Jim lapsed into silence for a moment.

_T’hy’la, Captain Pike has chosen you for a reason,_ Spock reminded him, pride unwavering. _You are not disrespecting him by saying yes._

Jim smiled at him, then turned back to Chris, nodding decisively.

‘I would love to, but I do have one request. If I’m Captain, you’re an Admiral. You’re the most experienced out of all of us, and I still want you okaying my decisions, Chris.’

Chris let out a bark of laughter, pushing himself further upright in his chair.

‘Not the way I expected a promotion.’

‘Me neither, but here we are,’ Jim said dryly. He looked to Spock, whose beautiful eyes were, as ever, fixed on him. ‘Spock’s my First, of course. And Bones is my CMO, if that’s okay with you.’

‘Oh sure, don’t ask me,’ Bones grumbled, his face twisting into a scowl as Jim blew him a kiss.

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ Chris replied, obviously amused. ‘You know your fellow cadets better than I do. Doctor McCoy, are you coming?’

‘Yeah, M’Benga’s holdin’ down the fort today. I assume this’ll be about leavin’ for the tin can?’

‘Hey, don’t call her that!’ Jim protested, only half-joking. ‘She’s not a tin can, she’s a beautiful lady!’

Bones snorted, taking hold of the handles of Chris’ chair to help wheel him out.

‘Don’t think everyone’ll be too happy about it.’

Chris replied as they left the private room, but Jim didn’t hear him, so wrapped up was he in his unexpected decision. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet, and although he was confident in his ability to lead, whether or not he was accepted by the group as Captain was a different story. Sure, he’d spent a lot of time mixing with the cadets and civilians, and took control after the latest outbreak, but Chris was all they had known as a leader so far.

_You need not worry, ashalik,_ Spock insisted, holding Liora tight to his chest as they left the medical centre. _I am certain that you will be accepted as Captain without hesitation. The more difficult task will be to convince the group of the benefits of leaving for Iowa._

_Thanks, Spock,_ Jim smiled, watching Theo blow spit bubbles with the affection that only a parent could have. _They’ve got a choice, but I can’t imagine any of them being happy to make it._

_Quite._

The meeting was in the only lecture hall that the perimeter had managed to contain, and despite its relatively small size, Jim’s chest ached to see it barely over half-full. Even without those on guard duty, it was clear that the latest outbreak had had a significant effect on numbers. Jim greeted everyone he could with a smile and a few words, handing Theo off to Amanda and Bones, while Scotty and Uhura took Liora, all of them seated in the front row so that the children were in sight. Giving Chris a microphone, Jim helped him up the ramp and stood to his left, pulling Spock up on stage to be beside him. It didn’t take long for the room to fall silent; people knew the importance of listening now.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Chris began, his amplified voice echoing through the hall. ‘Last week, we lost a lot of good people; your parents, your siblings… your children. For that, I am truly sorry. I know I’ve already spoken individually to those of you who have lost someone, but I’d just like to reiterate that if you find yourself struggling, please come to us, and we’ll try our absolute best to help.’

He paused for a moment, and with a pulse of guilt, Jim noticed people in tears in the audience. He tried to make eye contact with each, tried to transmit how sorry he was across the room, but he wasn’t sure that it made any difference.

‘In light of the attack last week, and the effect it’s had on me, I’ve decided to make a change that I think will benefit all of you. In my absence, I’m sure you’ve noticed how Jim and Spock have stepped up to the mark, doing all they can to secure what is left. Because they’ve done such a great job, I’m going to step aside, making Jim your Captain and Spock his First Officer. Those titles might seem somewhat ridiculous in our situation, but it lets you all know who has the responsibility of keeping you safe, and who to go to in times of need.’

With a thrill of nerves, Jim looked out at the audience, wilting in relief as he saw rather more smiles than expected. Of course, he hadn’t been expecting a party, but that small sign of welcome was enough to bolster his confidence.

‘Now I don’t suppose anyone’s in the clapping mood,’ Chris continued, ‘but I truly believe that I’ve made the right decision to try and ensure the safety of as many of you as possible. But there’s something much more important to discuss, which I’m going to let Jim explain.’

Staring out at the frightened, grief-stricken crowd, Jim took the microphone from Chris and drew himself upright, taking comfort in the bond as he stepped forward.

‘Morning, guys. I just want to let you know that if I’m gonna be the Captain, Pike is the Admiral. I’m not jumping in and taking over – I’m just taking a more active role – but I _am_ going to try my absolute best to keep you and your families safe. That’s always been our objective, and always will be. Recently, we’ve had a few difficult decisions to make, and once I’ve told you about the conclusions we’ve come to, you’ll have a massive one to make as well.’

He paused, looking out at a sea of grim faces, and forced a grimace as Theo squealed happily, oblivious to the terror of the world in which he was living.

‘I believe that, in this world, honesty is the best policy. And to be perfectly frank, there aren’t enough of us to provide security here. We’ve been doing our best, but the fact remains that we’re struggling, and these breaches are just going to keep happening. We’re in the middle of San Francisco, guys; they’re just going to get worse.’

There was a low-level outbreak of muttering, but Jim ignored it, knowing that his next announcement would be much more controversial.

‘If we want to live, we can’t stay here,’ he said firmly, raising his hand to quell the inevitable uproar that followed his statement. ‘I know, I know, just please let me say my piece. We can’t protect campus forever, especially if we keep losing people. We’ve identified a potential place of safety that we truly believe is our best chance at survival, but in the end, it’s your choice whether you stay or go. I’m going to be taking my family, because I know that even though the journey will be difficult, once we’re there, we’re safe.’

‘Where?’ someone called, and Jim searched the crowd until his eyes landed on Cupcake – Hendorff – sat in the second row with his tearful sister. They’d lost their father in the attack, and Jim could see from the stage the terrible grief in his expression.

‘Riverside, Iowa,’ Jim announced, and the muttering began anew, frenzied and frightened. ‘The U.S.S Enterprise is stationed there, and although we might not be able to leave Terra entirely, we can leave the ground. There would be no danger of invasion, and we would be able to sleep peacefully for once… yes?’

A young black cadet, leaning against the stair rail next to Patel, had raised her hand.

‘This might be a stupid question, but could we not… fly it over here?’

‘That’s not stupid at all,’ Jim assured her. ‘The issue is that we need a significant number of personnel to get the ship going in the first place, and there’s no way the remainder left here would be able to defend the area of campus we hold now. Plus, bringing the ship here would only attract all the reanimated in the state here. You’d be overrun before we could even attempt to land.’

The woman wilted in her chair, and Jim gave her a weak smile before turning his attention to the rest of the room.

‘That’s where my family are planning to go. Of course, you make your own decisions for yourself and _your_ family – you’ve no debt to us. If you want to stay and defend a smaller area, or try and make it elsewhere in San Francisco, nobody’s going to stop you. But there’s safety in numbers, and certainly on a starship. Please consider what I’ve said, and once you’ve decided whether or not you want to travel with us, please let us know. The more prepared we are, the smoother the journey will go. Any questions?’

Jim traced his eyes over the rows of filled seats, but nobody spoke. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

‘If you would let Admiral Pike, Commander Spock or I know whether you want to come with us by next week, I’d be grateful. Thanks for listening.’

_Do you think many of them will come?_ Jim asked, watching the subdued group file out of the hall.

_I do. The prospect of total security is an enticing one._

_Yeah, I guess it is,_ Jim mused, following Chris down the ramp towards where the others were waiting. Over the past few weeks, their close-knit group of seven had swollen to include Chris, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu, and all but the latter two were waiting by the stage for him and Spock. Despite the horrible reality that lay beyond the fences, Jim’s heart swelled when he saw Liora reach out to him, taking her from Nyota’s arms without hesitation.

‘Hello, sweetie,’ he smiled, combing his fingers through her wild hair. ‘Everyone alright?’

‘Far as we can be, I guess,’ Scotty answered, gaze lingering on Nyota in a way that Jim noticed, and was ridiculously amused by. ‘When are we leaving?’

‘Once we’ve figured out how best to keep everybody alive,’ Chris shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

‘We must also confirm the number of cadets and civilians that will be travelling with us.’

‘Yeah, and the more there are, the harder it’ll be,’ Jim murmured, catching Liora’s teddy as she dropped it, ‘but it’s worth the risk. It has to be.’

‘It’ll have to be,’ Nyota said firmly, meeting Scotty’s lovestruck gaze with a soft smile. ‘Now, I think Amanda and I have a class to teach.’

Amanda handed Theo – now fast asleep – back to Spock, who cradled him with such care that Jim’s stomach flipped. He never got used to that particular joy, and considering the fresh wash of love he felt through the bond, Spock never did either.

‘I’ll see you both at lunchtime, alright?’ Amanda smiled, her parting wave aimed mostly at the children.

When Scotty also made his excuses, Jim turned to Chris, who was wearing a particularly sour expression.

‘Apparently, I’ve got to go back for physiotherapy.’

‘I already got a bunch of babies right here,’ Bones grumbled, already taking hold of the wheelchair handles. ‘Don’t need another, Admiral.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not too much of a sulker,’ Chris said dryly. ‘You two know what you’re doing now?’

‘Conversing with the cadets on guard duty, and assessing the functionality of the automobiles on campus,’ Spock replied, rubbing Theo’s back.

‘Correct. Should’ve known you’d remember exactly. I’ll see you later, when the good doctor is done with me.’

Jim snorted, narrowly avoiding a flick to the ear as the two of them left, leaving only their little family in the lecture hall.

‘Do you think this is going to work, Spock?’ he asked quietly, allowing doubt to creep in for the first time since his speech began.

‘With you as leader, t’hy’la, I do not see how there could be any other outcome.’

Spock held out two fingers, and Jim caressed them with his own, savouring the feedback loop of adoration in the bond. He closed his eyes for a moment, using Spock’s composure to steady himself as he drew in a slow, deep breath, opening them with newfound confidence.

‘Come on, then. Let’s get started.’

Art by the wonderful [neonraate](http://neonraate.tumblr.com/post/135525502509/pastmydancingdays-neonraate-this-is-for-the)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know if you did - as always, I'm eternally grateful for your comments!
> 
> This wonderful piece of fanart was drawn by my friend Sofie, whose tumblr is [here](http://neonraate.tumblr.com/), and mine is [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to speak to either of us! This is exactly how I picture the children and I really, really love it, thank you, Sofie!! <333
> 
> There may be a little delay for the next chapter, as I'm trying to bring updates back to Fridays, but I'll try not to keep you waiting for too long :) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays everyone, and I hope you get everything you want this year!


	20. And Grace Will Lead Me Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a gorgeous piece of art drawn for me by the amazing [silfreya](http://silfreya.tumblr.com/post/136695856315/pastmydancingdays-silfreya-this-is-a-drawing)!! Thank you so much for your time and skills, lovely!! <333

Stardate 2261.79. 0830 hours. KL interviewing STS.

On this particular Starbase, it doesn’t take long to learn that wherever Captain Kirk goes, Commander Spock will follow. Liora and Theo are never far away either, but despite the unconditional love Jim and Spock obviously feel for their children, they are not their only concern. It’s been made abundantly clear that the crew, a motley group of former Starfleet cadets and civilians, come a close second in their list of priorities. While Jim’s fierce pride in his people is evident to all who speak with him, Spock’s own – as with all his emotions – isn’t quite so close to the surface. While some humans might regard his control as a sign of an inability to care for others, having spent so much time with him, I would argue that Spock cares for the crew just as deeply as Jim.

Are you close to anyone in particular, Spock?

STS: I am well-acquainted with Nyota and Admiral Pike, as you already know. _[An almost imperceptible wrinkle appears in his forehead.]_ Doctor McCoy also, although he seems to spend the majority of his free time attempting fruitlessly to antagonise me.

So I’ve heard. Anyone else?

STS: Jim and I work frequently with Ensign Chekov, Lieutenant Sulu, and Lieutenant-Commander Scott, all of whom he might call friend.

But you wouldn’t?

_[He pauses, lips parted. It might be comical, were it not so out-of-character.]_

STS: Vulcans do not commonly have friends. However… I do not consider the term entirely inaccurate.

They obviously think highly of you and Jim.

_[He doesn’t smile, but inclines his head in acknowledgement.]_

STS: They are not without their own merit. Indeed, when we left the Academy, all three contributed significantly to ensuring the safety of the group.

Jim mentioned that planning took a long time.

STS: Yes. The great majority of those who sought sanctuary on campus decided to leave for the Enterprise - one hundred and two people in total. Compared to our previous journey, it was a monumental task.

What about those who didn’t want to leave?

STS: One small group of civilians elected to remain on campus, while another decided to go elsewhere. I know nothing of the fate of the latter group, but when the Academy grounds were eventually swept clear, there were no signs of life.

_[His voice is inflectionless. I no longer take offence to it.]_

Who was the boss in all this? Pike?

STS: Admiral Pike made the executive decisions, yes. However, he spent many hours in the medical centre, having physiotherapy, and fighting off infections. Jim and I thus had increased responsibility, but we always relayed our decisions to the Admiral. Jim created a rank structure out of the cadets, employing the brightest and most able in positions of responsibility. Mister Scott, in particular, was what Leonard called a ‘godsend’. There were a number of broken vehicles that he managed to repair, which were vital for the transport of people and supplies, and as a sanctuary for the young and injured. Furthermore, he was knowledgeable about the Enterprise, having enthusiastically studied the blueprints throughout its construction phases.

He was a lucky find then. Weren’t you worried about the children, Spock?

STS: Of course.

_[This frank, if deadpan, opinion shocks me. Then again, if emotion ever trumps logic, I imagine that family would be the most likely cause.]_

STS: Jim and I now had responsibility for a much larger number of people than we ever had previously. The sheer size of the group would be likely to attract the reanimated, and being separated from our children was an entirely conceivable, if painful, possibility.

* * *

If one was to ignore the unnerving quiet of a previously bustling world, and the lack of light pollution that seemed to brighten the stars, it might be easy to wake and forget that civilisation did not exist anymore. Spock, however, had a memory so perfect that such a thing was impossible. At three minutes past midnight, as Jim slept fitfully beside him, Spock lay awake with his youngest child in his arms, and contemplated the future of their family. Had he met Jim under different circumstances, the arrival of children would have had solely joyful consequences, yet although he loved Liora and Theo with a force equal to his love for Jim, he could not entirely suppress his fear for their safety. As he watched Theodore suckle sleepily on the bottle of milk he had been given, Spock felt a tidal wave of affection rise in him, and wondered how his father had been able to control it. That Theodore was not his biological child was of little consequence. His son and daughter were beautiful, and intelligent, and as much a part of him as if he had birthed them himself. Thus, the prospect of leaving, however logical it may have been, made a very primal part of Spock protest.

It was one point five months since they had informed the Academy population of the impending exodus, and with most having decided to join them in their journey, planning had begun in earnest. Tempers were frayed, especially when smaller breaches had occurred, and Spock knew that many were frustrated at having to leave the place they had hoped to call home. Still, for the most part, he and Jim had found that cadets and civilians alike were willing to do what they must to ensure that their families had the safest possible journey to Iowa.

Theodore finished his bottle rather expeditiously, eyes closed in post-feed contentment, and with a soft kiss to his crown, Spock sat him up to burp him. It was rare that he woke now for milk, and his diet had expanded to include a small amount of puréed food, but Spock did not consider it an inconvenience to be awake with his child. He needed much less sleep than Jim did, and in the quiet of the night, he appreciated the time spent with Theodore without distractions. Soon, there would be no more moments such as this, no more relaxation in the knowledge that they were safe from the plague carriers beyond the perimeter, and Spock wished to cherish what time they had remaining.

Theodore was sleeping now, his little body lax and his exposed skin warm against that of Spock’s chest. With a pang of reluctance, Spock rose from the bed with the baby in his arms, carrying him through into the children’s room, his way lit by the dim light that so comforted Jim in sleep. He kissed Theodore’s head before laying him carefully down, pulling the blanket back over him.

‘Yuk-tor, sa-fu t’nash-veh,’ he whispered, touching his face before withdrawing to Liora’s bed.

She was sleeping soundly, though sprawled across the bed, and Spock gently rearranged her on it, tucking her in with the same tender care as he had her brother. He swept a hand across her head, smoothing down her unruly hair – which resembled Jim’s, despite their lack of a biological connection – and placed her stuffed animal back on the bed beside her.

When he returned to the master bedroom, he found Jim awake, curled into the warm spot his body had left behind.

‘Everyone all right?’ Jim murmured, his jaw cracking in a yawn.

Spock thought that he looked particularly beautiful like this, sleepy blue eyes half-lidded and hair tousled, his arms clumsily escaping the blankets he had wrapped himself in.

‘C’mere,’ Jim demanded, making grasping motions with his outstretched hands, and Spock went willingly into his arms, burrowing into the glorious heat that his body provided.

‘The children are fine,’ Spock informed him, fitting his body against Jim’s own with practiced ease. ‘After my meditation session, I discovered that Theodore required feeding.’

Jim hummed in acknowledgement, nudging a leg between both of his.

‘He’s sleeping through more and more, thank God.’

Looking down at him, Spock was taken by a sudden surge of emotion, and tilted Jim’s chin up to press their lips together. As ever, Jim responded with enthusiasm, lips soft and tongue languid as they kissed lazily, and when they parted, it was with evident reluctance on both sides.

‘Love you,’ Jim whispered, his affection as bright and boundless as ever, their connection shining with it.

 _As I love you,_ Spock returned, ignoring the want that tugged at his stomach as Jim shifted into a comfortable position atop him. He would not exhaust him with such pressure awaiting him the next day. _Sleep now, k’diwa._

With a sloppy kiss to his pectoral, Jim curled into him and obeyed. Within minutes, he was asleep again, and Spock closed his eyes to listen to the soft whistle of his breath. Despite his outward appearance suggesting otherwise, Spock was just as worried about Jim entering the dangerous of the outside world as he was about the children. Jim was strong, both emotionally and physically, but he was not infallible. While Spock was also particularly concerned for his mother, Nyota and Leonard, only Jim and Admiral Pike were now truly responsible for the safety of the one hundred and two people who had decided to travel to Iowa. Furthermore, Jim, with his great empathy and passionate nature, was likely to place himself in danger in order to ensure that as many of the group boarded the Enterprise as possible.

His own eyelids growing heavy, Spock pressed his lips to Jim’s crown and tightened his grip around that warm, beloved body. He would keep Jim and their children safe, at whatever cost to himself.

* * *

Unlike for humans, awareness in waking for Spock was not incremental. He opened his eyes to find two warm bodies against his; Jim, still curled against his chest, and Liora, wide-eyed and smiling, sat on top of the duvet.

‘Good morning, slor-veh,’ Spock greeted, his internal chronometer informing him that it was 0608. ‘Are you certain that you should be out of bed at this hour?’

‘Yes,’ Liora stated decisively, her head bobbing. ‘Pay, sa-mekh.’

‘It is a little early to be playing, daughter. Has Daddy explained to you that we will be travelling again soon?’

She stared at him, confused, and with Jim still fast asleep atop him, Spock pulled her down beside him.

‘We have to leave this place, Liora,’ he explained, allowing her to cuddle as close as she pleased. ‘It is not safe anymore.’

‘Not safe?’ she echoed, brow crinkled.

‘Not safe,’ Spock confirmed, solemn. ‘We are going to go a long way from here, to live on a starship.’

‘’Tar-sip?’

‘Yes, ko-fu. It will leave the ground, and so we will be safe.’

It was obvious that she did not entirely understand, but Spock had not expected complete comprehension.

‘Would you like to sleep a little longer?’ he asked, watching her mouth open wide in a yawn. ‘You may remain here if you are quiet. Daddy requires further rest.’

She nodded, burrowing into his side, and it seemed that she had fallen asleep within mere minutes of waking him. Looking down at the two blonde heads unknowingly almost touching, Spock concentrated on the bond and found with relief that Jim’s dreams were peaceful for now. He slept no longer – his body was as rested as it could possibly be – but watched over Jim and their daughter until Theodore inevitably announced his own awakening an hour later, an uncomfortable, rising dread in his stomach as he considered that this day would be the final opportunity for peace for quite some time.

Campus that morning was chaotic to say the least, as the final preparations for moving scores of people across seven states were carried out. Spock walked beside Jim during the inspection of the vehicles that would serve as their daylight transport, listening quietly as Lieutenant-Commander Scott spoke animatedly about their journey to Iowa. He alone seemed unfazed by the dangers ahead, and Spock suspected that it was a result of his devotion to his craft, and the excitement of being on the ship with he had long since been obsessed. Without Mister Scott, he doubted that they would have found sufficient transport in time, as the man had frequently volunteered to leave campus in the search of vehicles and fuel, and had contributed significantly to their repair once found. Spock had noticed that Nyota was decidedly uneasy whenever Scott left, more often than not joining each reconnaissance group that he did. She had not yet mentioned that she considered him a potential partner, but even with his own limited grasp on subtle human cues, Spock was certain that she had romantic feelings towards him.

‘It’s gonna be a squeeze, sir, but we’ll manage,’ Scott said brightly, his mood at odds with the gloom that had settled over the group. He patted the side of the unsightly white and blue motor home that had been salvaged five days previous. ‘You guys can go in here, we’ll squeeze everyone else in, just about. The bairns’ll all fit on the bus.’

‘Yeah, I think all the kids are going on there, plus a few adults,’ Jim replied, and Spock caught yet another stray thought about their children passing through his mind. ‘Great job, Scotty.’

Mister Scott beamed, covered in grease and clearly unconcerned by the state of his clothing.

‘No problem, Cap’n. Now I’ve got to get back to the little idiot before he gets his arm stuck in another exhaust pipe.’

Jim barely had time to begin to reply before Scott went bolting after Keenser, beginning a loud argument that was punctuated by many rude gestures on both sides. Watching them, Jim snorted, but Spock caught that familiar thread of worry once more, and could ignore it no longer.

‘A moment, Jim,’ he muttered, guiding him towards the side of Gamma Block where prying individuals would not be able to interfere.

Jim’s eyes, and mind, were troubled, and Spock pressed their fingers together in an attempt at comfort, soothing him within the bond as best he could.

_T’hy’la, what is wrong?_

Jim sighed and melted into him, drawing as much physical comfort from him as Spock would allow in public.

 _I’m just conflicted, I guess_ , he admitted, sliding their fingers together in a way that made Spock’s breath hitch as he leant his head back against the crumbling brick. _You know what I’m like, Spock. I want to look out for everyone, to keep the whole group as safe as possible, but my priority is you and the kids. It’s always going to be you and the kids._

 _I am certain that everyone understands that,_ Spock assured, lacing their fingers together loosely as the desire produced by the gentle rubbing of their fingertips threatened to distract him.

Spock could feel the persistent tumult of Jim’s emotions as he shook his head – in frustration rather than dismissively – and continued.

_Not all the adults are going to get to stay with their kids at night, you know. There’s just not enough space. But we are._

_The children are extremely young, ashaya,_ Spock reminded him, _and a number of other parents will be staying with their little ones in the vehicles at night. Furthermore, the majority of those who will be staying elsewhere have volunteered to do so._

 _I know,_ Jim said miserably, leaning so close that Spock could taste the minty toothpaste on his breath. _Still, I don’t really want to stay in the RV at night, Spock. I don’t want to have that privilege when some people are on the outside, but at the same time, there’s the baby to think of. He doesn’t know not to cry just because it might attract the wrong attention. And our little girl could easily wander off – she might remember what happened to her mom, but she’s got no real concept of danger yet. I just… I don’t know, Spock. I feel bad._

After casting a quick glance over to the crowd before Gamma Block in order to ascertain whether anybody was watching, Spock leant forward and kissed Jim firmly on the forehead, his lips lingering and hand coming up to cradle Jim’s cheek.

 _You should not,_ he murmured, his second hand coming to rest in the dip of Jim’s lower back, thumb stroking him slowly through his clothes. _We are parents, first and foremost. It is possible that some misguided individuals might see us staying with the children as abusing our rank, but that is not the case, and I care not for those who think otherwise._

By the time he had finished speaking, Jim had relaxed beneath his hands, and his emotions had settled in the bond, not quite positive, but not as tempestuous as before.

‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ Jim breathed, eyes fluttering closed as they pressed closer together. ‘You always know how to make me feel better.’

‘As a bondmate should,’ Spock replied, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling his sweet scent. When he spied a civilian passing close by, he reluctantly drew back, enduring Jim’s pout and soothing his wounded feelings with a consoling Vulcan kiss. ‘Come, t’hy’la. Once the final checks have been made, we will have this afternoon to ourselves.’

Jim nodded, a soft smile curving his lips as he pushed himself off the wall.

‘We should go and pick the kids up soon. I want to spend as much time with them as I can.’

‘As do I,’ Spock agreed, parting bodily from Jim with little enthusiasm as they returned to the bustle around the convoy. ‘There is much to do before that, however.’

‘We’ll get through it,’ Jim said optimistically, raising his hand in acknowledgement as a number of cadets began clamouring for his attention. ‘Just a few more hours and it’ll be the calm before the storm.’

He was swept away by four enthusiastic engineers, and although Spock’s attention was soon commanded by his own group of cadets, he found himself preoccupied an unusual amount by thoughts of their family, and the trials that were to come.

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Although they’d become accustomed to dining in Gamma Block along with the majority of those residing on campus, on that final day, Jim expressed his desire for a more intimate repast. Their core group of seven had swelled to include Chekov, Sulu, Mister Scott and Admiral Pike, all of whom seemed remarkably fond of the children – an attribute which certainly endeared them to Jim, and Spock himself, if he were so inclined to admit it. At dinner, while Jim was feeding Theodore, Liora was being passed around the table as if she were a prize in a game of pass the parcel, finally coming to rest in Leonard’s lap. Although Leonard was still suffering in the aftermath of his daughter’s death, Spock knew that, despite his demeanour suggesting otherwise, Leonard was extraordinarily fond of Liora. Furthermore, the feeling seemed to be mutual; besides her parents and grandmother, Liora’s favourite person was certainly Leonard.

‘Don’t you think you’re havin’ any of my chilli,’ he was currently telling her, his face twisted in an unconvincing scowl. ‘It’s too hot for you, missy.’

Liora giggled, accidentally hitting Nyota’s arm as she playfully reached for his food.

‘Ko-fu,’ Spock said gently, as Nyota waved dismissively at him.

‘It’s fine, Spock.’

‘What is to be said when we hurt someone?’ Spock continued, his voice never rising.

‘Sowwy,’ Liora mumbled, dragging her hand along Nyota’s arm in a manner that Spock supposed was intended to be comforting. ‘Sowwy.’

‘It’s all right, sweetie. I know you didn’t mean to.’

Despite the pleasant atmosphere, Spock was somewhat relieved when dinner was over, as he wished to spend the remainder of the evening alone with Jim and the children. His mother offered to take the children for the night, but he and Jim refused without discussion, grateful for the proposal, but unwilling to let what time they had with them here slip away. So, as the group dispersed, with the enormity of tomorrow weighing heavily in their goodbyes, Spock and Jim took their children into their arms and left for the room that would soon be unoccupied. As they walked, Spock pressed his cheek lightly against the side of Liora’s head, the thought of leaving a far more difficult concept than when he and Jim had had no children.

 _We’re going to be okay,_ Jim said firmly, a far cry from his earlier uncertainty. He bounced Theodore on his hip as he squealed, showering kisses over his head. _We’re going to get to the Enterprise, and we’re going to be safe there – permanently._

 _I appreciate your optimism,_ Spock replied, repressing his doubts. There could be no other outcome; he had promised himself that he would keep his family safe, and worry was illogical. That knowledge did not always prevent his human half from dominating in trying circumstances, however.

Once inside their room, Spock set Liora down on the floor, who made a beeline for the simple toys she had abandoned in the corner that morning. Spock regretted that they would not be able to bring all of Mister Scott’s creations with them, but kaiidth – they had no other choice. Jim sat Theodore carefully on the bed, and happiness swelled on both sides of the bond when he remained upright unsupported, a feat he had only recently accomplished.

‘Good boy,’ Jim cooed, laughing delightedly as Theodore clapped, and the force of his own movements sent him falling forwards onto the duvet with a soft thump.

Shedding his outer jacket, Spock knelt at the end of the bed as Jim lifted Liora onto it beside her brother. He closed his eyes when Theodore reached grasping hands towards his face, ignoring the slight scratch of nails as his nose was grabbed, then a fistful of his hair. It was mildly painful, but he did not care, particularly when he opened his eyes and discovered Theodore sporting a toothless grin, blue eyes wide and joyful.

‘Must you assault me so, pi-veh?’ he murmured, resigned to his fate when Theodore merely shrieked with laughter and grabbed another fistful of hair.

‘Loud,’ Liora complained, scribbling on her vanish board with a crayon held between all five digits.

‘He is, isn’t he, honey?’ Jim agreed, sitting on the bed and tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘I bet you were loud at his age too.’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Well, all right then,’ Jim laughed, his amusement at her obstinacy blooming in the bondspace.

He reached forward and disentangled Theodore’s hands from Spock’s hair, then picked him up and placed him further up the bed on his stomach.

‘Where’s sa-mekh, Theo?’ he crooned, holding the duvet taut as Theodore pushed himself up unsteadily using his hands. ‘Go to sa-mekh.’

When Liora pushed insistently at Theodore’s bottom, Spock held his arms out, watching raptly as Theodore dragged himself forwards slightly, wriggling as he attempted to gain traction, then rolled onto his side. Laughing, Jim rolled him back over, and Theodore’s eyes met Spock’s.

‘La, sa-fu,’ he said warmly, flexing his fingers in encouragement. ‘Come here.’

Theodore gurgled, saliva bubbling from his lips which Jim wiped away without fuss, and with an almighty expense of effort, he began dragging himself towards Spock commando-style, arms taking his weight as his legs floundered. Spock felt an immense surge of pride at seeing his son so close to crawling, pride which was clearly shared by Jim, judging by the wide smile on his face and the brightness of the bond. When Theodore collapsed face-first, a foot away from his target, Spock scooped him into his arms and kissed his brow, holding him tight as he kicked and squealed.

‘Clever boy,’ Jim sang, pulling Liora onto his lap as she looked for attention herself. ‘He’ll be crawling in no time.’

At that proclamation, Jim’s excitement dimmed, although he did not allow his smile to do the same. Spock tilted his head in question as he let Theodore down again, passing him a soft toy that was immediately brought to his mouth.

 _The more mobile he is, the more likely he is to wander off,_ Jim pointed out, moving a crayon out of Theodore’s reach and replacing it with a rattle.

_That is true, but we would never allow him to wander off. You and I have always watched the children very closely, and those we allow to watch them are practiced in doing the same._

_Yeah, I guess,_ Jim replied, lifting Liora from the bed once she had finished her drawing. ‘That’s lovely, sweetie, but I think it’s bath time now.’

Liora rarely voiced her displeasure, an unexpected blessing in some ways, and a concern in others, but now, her face set in a scowl that was reminiscent of Doctor McCoy’s. She was well aware that ‘bath time’ was a precursor to ‘bedtime’, and like most toddlers, she considered ‘bedtime’ to be rather too early. Still, she silently, grudgingly complied, allowing herself to be undressed and lifted into the water beside her brother, and once Jim began sculpting her hair with shampoo, her previous misery faded.

‘Want to be a punk rocker, Lia?’ Jim grinned, ignoring Spock’s twitch at the unfamiliar nickname. ‘Or a unicorn?’

‘Uni,’ she announced, giggling as Jim spiked her hair into a drooping cone.

As Spock carefully poured handfuls of water over Theodore’s head, Jim tickled the baby’s stomach.

‘It’ll be a while before you have enough hair to do this, won’t it bud?’

‘Considering the rate at which it is growing, I am not sure that I agree,’ Spock responded, raising an eyebrow as Jim stuck out his tongue.

Liora made a sound of displeasure, holding her hand out to Jim, who took it and smiled.

‘Don’t like wrinkly fingers, hun? Me neither. C’mon then, stand up.’

Taking a towel from the rail behind him, Jim wrapped her up in it and lifted her out, drying her vigorously.

‘Cold, Daddy,’ she complained, once he took the towel away.

‘I know, baby,’ he soothed, helping her into her pyjamas. ‘Bet you’re warmer now though, huh? I’ll just take her into the other room, Spock.’

Once Theodore had been thoroughly cleaned (and Spock had prevented him four times from attempting to consume the shampoo residue), Spock bundled him up in his own towel and carried him into the children’s bedroom. While Jim occupied Liora with a story, Spock dried and clothed Theodore, noting with a rush of affection that he was falling asleep already, eyelids drooping beneath the weight of his weariness. He rocked the baby gently, hearing his breathing deepen and his heartbeat slow, limbs falling lax in sleep.

‘Night, sweetie,’ he heard Jim say, and looked up to see Liora reaching for him.

Without discussion, he and Jim made an exchange, as Jim took Theodore from his arms and he went to give Liora her customary kiss.

‘Sleep well, little one.’

Spock came up behind Jim as he settled Theodore into his cradle and slipped his arms around his waist once he had straightened up.

 _Hey,_ Jim whispered, as if the children could hear them speak even through the bond. He squeezed Spock’s forearms, then turned in the circle of them, kissing him gently. _Let’s go next door._

As Spock led him into the bedroom, he felt anticipation begin to build within, a sensation which only intensified as Jim turned the lock on the door.

‘Before I forget, Scotty told me that he’s finally managed to get the replicators fully functional on solar power,’ he said, slipping his hands beneath Spock’s shirt. ‘So we won’t have to worry about food unless the Sun craps up too.’

‘I think that is unlikely.’

Jim smiled, lips curving in a slow, seductive beam which made Spock’s stomach flip, desire curling between them.

‘It’s our last night with a proper bedroom. Wanna fool around?’

‘I am not sure about ‘fooling around’,’ Spock murmured, arching into the warmth of his hands, ‘but I would very much like to make love to you.’

Jim’s breath hitched, his slow burning arousal both infectious and welcome.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, leaning up to press their foreheads together.

‘And I love you, t’hy’la,’ Spock replied, voice thick with emotion. ‘For all that we have suffered, I am eternally grateful that I met you.’

‘God, me too,’ Jim said raggedly, eyes bright in the seconds before Spock was pulled into a passionate kiss, pliant lips sliding wetly against his.

Spock could hear Jim’s heart beat ever faster as he held him close, threading a hand into soft, fine hair. When Jim’s mouth opened beneath his own, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between his lips. Jim moaned quietly, the sound vibrating in his throat as he pressed himself closer, and Spock could taste the butterscotch from the cookies he had eaten for dessert, faint but sweet. When Jim flicked his tongue against the frenulum of Spock’s own, tugging gently at his hair, Spock shivered, his penis beginning to fill with blood. Pushing their hips together, Spock found that Jim was in a similar position, and as their kiss deepened further, he dropped a hand to Jim’s backside and used it to grind up against him, a groan forcing itself from his throat.

‘Jesus, Spock,’ Jim gasped, breaking the kiss in order to drag in well-needed air, his face flushed. ‘I want you. ’

_Yes, k’diwa. Let me make love to you._

A soft, weak sound rose in Jim’s throat, and his hands went immediately to Spock’s shirt, divesting him of it with surprising speed. Spock slowed his advances by catching his hands, squeezing lightly before letting go.

 _I will not rush tonight, my Jim,_ he asserted, pulling Jim’s t-shirt over his head at a much more sedate pace. _When you climax, I want you to remember the intensity of it for weeks to come._

 _That’s some high standards you’re setting yourself there,_ Jim purred, swiping his tongue across his lips as practiced fingers undid his trousers.

_I aim to please, t’hy’la._

Jim laughed, but the sound was choked off as Spock swept him off his feet and laid him on the bed, supporting himself on his forearms so as not to crush him when he lowered himself on top of him.

‘Do your best then,’ Jim whispered, breathless.

Jim let his legs spread further to accommodate him, and Spock kissed him deeply, the gentle rocking motions of their hips softening the burn of arousal to a simmer, his penis beginning to throb. The heat of Jim’s bare chest felt so wonderful against his own cooler skin, and as he broke the kiss, Spock ran his fingers over the swell of his pectoral, sucking a lovebite into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

‘God, Spock,’ Jim groaned, clutching at his hair as he kissed and nibbled his way down his chest, leaving pinkish marks in his wake. ‘Come on, honey, stop torturing me.’

_If this is torture, beloved, you may find what is to come intolerable._

Pressing a final kiss to his sternum, Spock turned his attention to Jim’s rosy nipples, circling his thumb over the erect peak of the left and enjoying its softness against his skin. When he pinched it lightly, Jim whined, bucking up against him so that their confined erections brushed. Spock shivered at the delicious contact, leaning down to seal his lips around the areola and suck. He was tremendously fond of Jim’s reaction whenever he did this, and as usual, he did not disappoint. As Spock suckled gently, using the hand that wasn’t holding him up to stroke possessively over Jim’s belly, Jim moaned low in his throat, tightening his hand in Spock’s hair to the same rhythm as Spock’s tongue lapping over his nipple.

 _C’mon, baby, please,_ Jim begged, bringing a knee up to more easily grind against his hip, but Spock refused to relent, swapping to his right side and continuing the pleasurable torture.

By the time he pulled away, Jim’s chest was heaving, his nipples swollen and pink, and his erection was quite clearly tenting the front of his jeans.

 _I swear I could come from just that,_ he panted, pulling at Spock’s trousers. _Want to see you, Spock._

Kissing him chastely, Spock left the bed to remove his trousers, then returned to tug Jim’s own off, a pulse of arousal flipping his stomach as he saw the thick outline of Jim’s erection through his underwear, a wet patch on the fabric where it was leaking precome.

‘You are magnificent,’ he said softly, thumbs stroking over the ridges of Jim’s hipbones.

 _‘You’re_ the gorgeous one,’ Jim argued, his breath stuttering as Spock began placing a line of wet kisses down from his midriff to the elastic of his underwear, pausing to suck a mark into the cradle of his hip.

‘E’tum,’ Spock whispered, pressing his mouth to Jim’s clothed sex and breathing in his musk. ‘Ha’su.’

With Jim’s permission, his boxer shorts were slipped off, and Spock’s hand went immediately to his erection. Jim moaned as he began a rhythm of long, slow strokes, spreading the wetness seeping from the slit around the head with his thumb, just as he knew Jim enjoyed.

‘S’good,’ Jim choked, his smooth, wet cock so wonderfully slick against Spock’s hand, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine.

_Yes, t’hy’la. Perhaps this will be even better._

He leant down to take Jim’s erection into his mouth, sucking strongly at the tip, and relishing in Jim’s long whine. The taste of him was addictive, and Spock’s pleasure in his task far outweighed any expectations he might have had before he met his t’hy’la, his own cock pulsing as he descended further down Jim’s erection with every unhurried bob of his head.

 _‘Spock,’_ Jim pled, his voice cracking beautifully. ‘Please!’

Knowing that Jim was close, his pleasure coiling tight in the bond, Spock sucked harder, looking up at Jim as he lapped at the head of his cock and pressed gently against his perineum. With a broken, drawn-out moan, Jim arched up beneath Spock’s hands and came, fingers tightening reflexively in his hair. Spock, considering himself somewhat of an expert in Jim-directed fellatio, swallowed each pulse of semen and sucked until Jim pushed at his shoulders, squirming with over-stimulation.

‘How the hell did you get so good?’ Jim breathed, slumping backwards, and smoothing down the hair his fingers had tousled.

‘I have had an enthusiastic teacher and plenty of practice.’

Jim smiled lazily, his satiation doing little to dampen Spock’s desire. He reached out to where Spock was kneeling before him, and squeezed his erection through his underwear. The unexpected pleasure forced a gasp from Spock’s lungs, and he could feel his own wetness seeping through the sopping material, preparing for penetration. Jim’s soft cock visibly twitched as he pulled away, his hand shining.

_God, honey, look how wet you are._

_For you, Jim,_ Spock murmured, allowing Jim to peel his underwear off. _Only ever for you._

 _Mine,_ Jim growled, kissing him fiercely, his hand reaching down to tug at Spock’s slippery cock.

Moaning into Jim’s mouth, Spock bore him down onto his back, seeking relief as he ground down against Jim’s rapidly stiffening erection. Jim reciprocated enthusiastically for a while, but then grasped his hips to slow their movement and parted them with a final kiss, gaze soft and loving.

‘You want to be inside me?’ he asked, stroking Spock’s fingers until every gentle brush went straight to his cock. ‘That’s what I want.’

‘Yes, t’hy’la,’ Spock breathed, watching with awe as Jim spread his legs to accommodate him, making himself vulnerable in a way which highlighted to Spock the trust that Jim now had in him.

‘Come on then, big guy,’ Jim grinned, bending his knees to expose himself. ‘Do your best.’

Unable to resist, Spock kissed him once more, curling his tongue against Jim’s as he fumbled blindly in a bedside drawer for the lubricant. He emptied much of what remained into his hand, aware that the coming journey would leave little time for intimacy, and pulled back to watch Jim stroke himself to full hardness, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks.

‘James,’ Spock whispered, skimming his hands reverently over the soft skin of his inner thighs.

His penis standing to attention once more, Jim stilled his hand and lay back, guiding one of Spock’s hands between his legs.

‘Go on, t’hy’la. I want you.’

Shuddering with desire, Spock stroked two slick fingers over Jim’s hole, pushing the tip of one gently inside. The hot tightness around his sensitive finger was, as always, agonisingly pleasurable, as was Jim’s reaction when Spock immediately zeroed in on his prostate, their frequent intimacy having contributed much to his knowledge of Jim’s body.

‘Another,’ Jim panted, his exhalations sharp and pitchy as he bore down. ‘Another, Spock.’

Spock obeyed with habitual care, scissoring his fingers gently, and leaning down to lick between them to loosen him further.

 _Spock!_ Jim whined, his only verbal response a sharp, bitten-off cry that recurred as Spock licked into him. _Want you, please!_

 _One more, k’diwa,_ Spock promised, a third finger slipping easily beside the others with the combination of lubricant and saliva, Jim writhing beneath him as he relentlessly fingered his prostate.

It was only when Jim was loose and open, when he was prepared to act on Jim’s increasingly fervent pleas, that he caught something which gave him pause. There was a flicker of uncertainty, of nerves through the bond, and Spock froze, going cold at the thought of Jim fearing him.

‘Oh, honey, no,’ Jim soothed, kissing him sweetly. ‘I’m not scared of you. I was just wondering maybe if we could try something.’

‘Anything,’ Spock replied, relieved beyond belief. He slipped his fingers from inside Jim, taking the lubricant in hand once more. ‘What do you wish for?’

Jim swallowed thickly, his jaw working. Spock waited patiently for him to speak, but Jim instead rolled onto his stomach, trembling infinitesimally.

‘Wanna try it like this.’

Taken aback, Spock short-circuited for a moment, long enough that Jim sat back up, insecurity beginning to trickle through their connection. Unwilling to render him fearful of making suggestions, but wary of his previous preferences and the explanation thereof, Spock made a decision.

‘Are you certain, ashal-veh?’ he asked gently, cupping Jim’s cheek so as to make direct eye contact. ‘I am perfectly satisfied by our sexual encounters; you do not need to push yourself in this way.’

Jim’s lips curved in a tiny, bittersweet smile, his hand rising to press over Spock’s.

‘It’s not all for you, t’hy’la. It’s for me too. I trust you, and I don’t want my past to fuck me up any more.’

Spock made to argue, to tell him that he wasn’t ‘fucked up’, but Jim quieted him with a gentle kiss, turning around. As he went to lie down, however, Spock caught him round the waist and pulled him into a kneeling position, spooning up behind him.

‘Perhaps this position might suffice? It would still be something we have not experienced before.’

Jim nodded, arching into Spock’s hands as they smoothed over his sides.

‘Yeah, ‘shaya,’ he said softly, turning his head for a kiss. ‘Make love to me.’

Trailing kisses down Jim’s neck, Spock took hold of his penis and lined himself up, then replaced his hands on Jim’s hips.

‘Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, ashaya,’ he whispered, beginning to press in gently. ‘Adun e’tum t’nash-veh.’

‘Love you so much,’ Jim whimpered, bearing down, his hands clutching Spock’s thighs behind him.

Spock sighed in pleasure at the exquisite tightness, but when he was fully inside of Jim, he concentrated completely on how he was feeling. Within the bond, love and lust were dominant, but there was also an undercurrent of nerves which Spock was determined to override.

 _Move, Spock,_ Jim begged, and when Spock complied, groaning quietly, that nervousness spiked.

 _Ashal-veh,_ Spock cooed, slow and gentle in his movements despite Jim’s urgency. _It is my hands on your skin. It is my penis within you. Do not fear._

He made certain to rub against Jim’s prostate with his next careful thrust, and Jim whined, raising his chin so that Spock had better access to his neck. Spock splayed his hand against Jim’s stomach, feeling the thick muscles contract beneath it with another stab of arousal. He wanted to bring Jim to climax as many times as possible, and he was certain that he could wring more than one more orgasm out of him before the night was over. Increasing his speed, he latched onto Jim’s neck and sucked gently, one hand taking hold of Jim’s erection to stroke it, the warm weight in his hand only adding to his building ecstasy. Jim let out a breathy cry, loud enough that Spock briefly feared that the children would hear, but he was distracted from his concerns when Jim took two of his fingers into his mouth, the vibration around them as Jim moaned making heat pool deep in his stomach.

 _I’m close,_ Jim choked, and Spock could feel it, the impending euphoria building in the bondspace, as much a part of him as it was of Jim.

‘I know, ashaya,’ Spock purred, lowering his voice to a pitch that made Jim’s erection pulse in his hand. As Jim’s breathing became harsh and desperate, soft whines escaping him with every thrust, Spock realised how close he was himself, pleasure pulling tight at his sac. ‘Come for me, Jim. Come for me.’

He swiped a thumb over the head of Jim’s cock, pushing in hard and deep, and was rewarded with Jim’s muffled cry of ecstasy as semen pulsed over his hand, the warm wetness there and the tight heat of Jim sending Spock over the edge as well.

 _‘T’hy’la,’_ he moaned, Jim’s inner walls milking every spurt from his cock as they rocked together, semen slicking the way. _‘E’tum.’_

Spock’s fingers slipped from Jim’s mouth as Jim slumped back, twitching away from Spock’s hand on his diminishing erection.

‘A-ah! Sensitive!’

‘I apologise,’ Spock rumbled, his arms wrapping around Jim’s waist instead as his own non-existent refractory period allowed him to continue rocking gently inside him, attempting to arouse him once more.

‘You still hard, baby?’ Jim asked breathily, whining as Spock ground against his prostate in reply. ‘I can’t… I don’t think I can come, not again.’

‘Do you wish me to cease?’

He held himself still until Jim shook his head, one hand drifting up to his meld points.

‘Would you like me to help, t’hy’la?’

‘Please,’ Jim murmured, making a soft noise of contentment as Spock sucked a lovebite into his neck.

With little effort, Spock found and stimulated his pleasure centres, humming in satisfaction as Jim sucked in a shaky breath and his penis began to rise again. Spock stroked it loosely, careful not to do anything that would cause him discomfort, and dared to begin rocking carefully into him, pleasure radiating out from where they joined.

 _‘Spock,’_ Jim breathed, still sensitive from his last orgasm. ‘Spock, I need…’

 _Yes, beloved,_ Spock soothed, moving gentle and slow, intoxicated by the scent of their mating. _I will take care of you, do not worry._

It took longer for orgasm to threaten this time, pleasure building steadily like a fire kindling in the dark, running freely between them in the bond. As they moved together, their vocalisations muffled by bitten lips and soft kisses, Jim trembled, his muscles drawn bow-string tight, and Spock could feel that he was ready to break. He caressed the shaft of Jim’s cock with his thumb, grinding against his prostate. With a harsh sob, Jim scrambled for purchase on Spock’s thighs as he came, a little semen dribbling onto the duvet, but his orgasm was mostly dry, the pulsing contractions of his penis and Spock’s hand upon it drawing out the final few pearly drops. Spock himself wasn’t far behind, Jim’s ecstasy triggering his, and he turned Jim’s head for a kiss to muffle his cry as orgasm took him, the faint taste of blood going unnoticed beside the blinding pleasure of their lovemaking.

It took great effort to avoid merely collapsing upon the bed – and Jim – but Spock managed it, supporting Jim as they panted together in the afterglow. They exchanged a few lazy kisses, but when Spock drew back, he noticed the red welling up in a tiny wound in Jim’s lip, evidently a casualty of his teeth.

 _‘T’hy’la,’_ he sighed, wiping a trickle gently away with his thumb.

‘I would have been too loud,’ Jim protested, wincing as Spock’s quiescent penis slipped out of him. ‘It was better than waking the kids.’

‘That is questionable,’ Spock replied, though he ceased his admonishments. With a soft kiss to Jim’s neck, he stood, and swept Jim into his arms, eliciting a yelp. ‘Come, ashayam. We should cleanse ourselves.’

‘Not as if you’ve given me much choice,’ Jim sulked, but he did not struggle in Spock’s arms, sleepily allowing Spock to take care of him as they showered and readied themselves for bed.

Once in the warm cocoon of a fresh duvet, holding Jim to him like the treasure he was, Spock ran his lips over the shell of Jim’s ear. Jim shivered, burying his head deeper in the crook of Spock’s neck and tracing a finger over his collarbone. They needed no words, but Spock could not help but tell Jim that he loved him again, however repetitive it might have been.

‘Yeah, t’hy’la, I love you too,’ Jim whispered, his smile felt rather than seen. ‘And we’re going to get to the Enterprise. We’re going to be safe, Spock. We’re going to _fly.’_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the few day delay, guys! I wanted to get updates back to Fridays when I have more time. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please leave a comment if you did (I love reading them!) :D Thank you so much to silfreya who has so graciously drawn the second piece of art for ATLL, and you can catch both of us over at tumblr - [here](http://silfreya.tumblr.com/post/136695856315/pastmydancingdays-silfreya-this-is-a-drawing), and [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), at my newly revamped blog!
> 
> Have a lovely weekend, guys :)


	21. Love Is Not A Victory March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I only _just_ finished this in time for the two week update! Hope you enjoy!

Stardate 2261.79. 1455 hours. KL interviewing LHM.

The Leonard McCoy I first encountered and the man sat before me now share few of the same characteristics. Though I am still very aware of the undercurrent of sadness and anger beneath his words, he is as cordial as any of his crewmates, although, as usual, impatient to return to his duties. A doctor with a flawless reputation, solid friendships with Jim and Spock, and an incredible stubbornness which has likely been part of what has borne him through the past few years, he is also an uncle figure to the children. While Jim and Spock attend yet another meeting with Federation Council representatives this evening, he will be taking care of them. I’m not privy to most aspects of his personal life, but considering that he rarely mentions anyone apart from the Bridge crew and his staff, I’m led to believe that he’s a fairly solitary man.

Who do you spend time with outside of work?

LHM: What, apart from Jim and the hobgoblin? I play cards with Scotty sometimes, and me and Christine are pretty good friends too.

No one else?

_[He shrugs, shaking his head.]_

LHM: I work a hell of a lot. And I’ve never been someone who has a whole bunch of friends anyway. I’d rather spend more time with a few than less time with a lot.

What about a girlfriend? A boyfriend?

LHM: Neither. _[His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.]_ I’m- I don’t do that sort of thing. I’m better off alone.

There’s nobody you have your eye on?

_[He shakes his head repeatedly, roughly, an almost-panic in his eyes.]_

LHM: No, no, I don’t- _[He breaks off, gaze dropping from mine as he shifts uncomfortably.]_ Can we change the subject, please?

_[I wonder if this is anything to do with Jocelyn, or the death of Joanna, or the combination of both, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to alienate him, especially considering that I’m probably closer to Leonard and his crewmates than any of my colleagues on the Starbase.]_

Yep, that’s fine. Will you talk to me about leaving the Academy?

LHM: _[nodding]_ That was hellishly difficult, let me tell you. It was bad enough leavin’ Des Moines with only five of us, even worse when the kids came along, but moving a hundred and somethin’ of us from one side of the country to almost the other? That was a totally different kind of feat, and I still have no idea how we managed it.

Did you lose anyone?

LHM: ’Course we did. Jim was so mad with himself whenever we did, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s, ’cept the plague rats that never rested, never slept. But Jim always takes it to heart. He’s that kind of man. Thinks he’s a superhero who’s responsible for the whole damn world. He ain’t. He can’t be.

How did you go about preparing for the journey?

LHM: Me personally? I just did my job, ma’am. Anyone who got sick or injured, I tried my best to fix up, since I’m pretty good at that sort of thing. But the actual logistics of leavin’ were dealt with by Admiral Pike, Jim and Spock, and those they delegated to. Scotty and his team contributed a lot; they had to figure out how we were going to travel, how we were going to feed and clothe ourselves using the replicators, how we were going to last until Iowa with what weapons we had. There were a lot of questions that needed answering.

And how did you feel about leaving?

LHM: We needed to.

That’s not an answer, Leonard.

LHM: _[frowning]_ Well, of course I wasn’t happy about it, dragging my ass across seven states, but that was irrelevant. I wasn’t gonna leave Jim, or the kids, or even Spock. I might not have any biological family anymore, but I’ve got those guys, and I was never going to let them go anywhere without me.

* * *

It was four thirty in the morning, and the world seemed to be still, almost frozen, in the early morning mist. Leonard, stood by Delta Block with Christine and Janice, was freezing, his breath rising before him in little white puffs, colouring the air in a way that drew the eye after six hours of sleep. They were on the move again, and Leonard, as he so often did, was feeling particularly grumpy.

‘Oh, lighten up, Len,’ Christine said, exasperated. ‘You’re going to scare the kiddies.’

‘Neither of them’ll remember my facial expression by next week,’ Leonard grunted, folding his arms across his jacketed chest.

‘Well, I will,’ Janice countered, pinning a lock of her hair securely into place. ‘And I don’t want to. Come on, we’ve got a chance at total safety here.’

Leonard huffed, watching children and their parents file onto the ancient bus they had discovered.

‘Yeah, once we cross half of the damn country with millions of infected chasing after us. I’m _really_ lookin’ forward to it.’

Janice and Christine exchanged a look, but Leonard was far too tired to begin analysing it, instead fixing his hazy eyes on the pink-orange horizon and wishing he’d had a second cup of coffee.

‘Where are you guys goin’?’ he asked eventually, nodding towards the line of cars and vans facing the entrance they had come in through months ago.

‘We’re in the van right behind you,’ Christine answered, tension in her smile despite her earlier admonishment. ‘If you need me, you can always stick your head out of the window.’

‘Or, y’know, use a radio.’

‘Yeah, I guess there’s always that option.’

Leonard snorted, stuffing his hands under his armpits in an attempt to keep warm. They lapsed into a comfortable, exhaustion-driven silence, and he let his eyelids droop slightly, their heaviness an unavoidable temptation…

‘Hey, Bones!’

Leonard jumped about a foot in the air as Jim’s greeting was squealed directly into his ear, cursing under his breath as he turned to find Jim, Spock and the kids standing behind him, the latter giggling at him.

‘Oh, is that funny?’ he asked mock-angrily, as he reached out to tickle Liora in Jim’s arms and Theo in Spock’s. ‘Is that funny, huh?’

Both shrieked with laughter, squirming in their fathers’ arms as Leonard went for their tummies and necks. He felt just that tiny bit better when he pulled away, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

‘We all set?’

‘Yeah, pretty much,’ Jim chirped, grinning at Christine and Janice as he bounced Liora on his hip. ‘Are you two all right with where you’re going? We’ll be just up ahead if you need us.’

‘Yeah, that’s fine. And I’m still here to babysit these two cuties when you want me to,’ Janice replied, pushing Liora’s wild hair back off her face.

‘Thanks, Janice,’ Jim said softly. A flicker of some unnameable emotion passed over his face, which alerted not only Leonard, but apparently Spock, judging by the loaded glance the two exchanged a moment later. ‘If you want to get going, Chekov and the others are already in the van. Giotto’ll be there soon.’

‘Sure,’ Christine smiled, chucking Theo’s cheek as she and Janice gathered their belongings. ‘Keep us updated, yeah?’

‘Of course.’

With the two ladies gone, Leonard turned his attention back to Jim and Spock. Jim was momentarily preoccupied with persuading Liora to blow her nose, but Spock was watching him with a gaze so intense that Leonard felt like a naughty schoolboy.

‘You gonna quit starin’?’ he snapped, fighting the urge to squirm.

‘I was merely attempting to gauge your wellbeing. However, judging by your tone, it seems that there is no need for concern. Aside from that which is normal, of course.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Leonard barked, folding his arms across his chest. ‘I’m _fine.’_

‘Apparently so,’ Spock said blithely, his raised eyebrow making Leonard’s face heat with anger.

‘Guys, can we please stop with the you-know-what measuring? The kids don’t need to hear it, and neither do I.’

Though Jim’s tone was cheery, there was an undercurrent of steel, and it stopped both Leonard and Spock in their tracks.

‘I need you both today,’ Jim continued, more softly. ‘We’re going to be dealing with a lot more than petty arguments soon.’

Abashed, Leonard nodded, earning a truer smile from Jim. He and Spock looked at one another for just a few seconds too long, suggesting that they were having another of those silent conversations, before Spock dipped his head in acceptance.

‘Great. We going to get in the RV? We’re pretty much set now.’

Before either of them could answer, Theo squealed, his little chubby fist smacking gently against Spock’s chest as he waved it, and Jim laughed.

‘I guess that’s a yeah,’ he smiled, clapping Leonard on the shoulder with his free hand. ‘Let’s go.’

As the sun slowly rose, the day looking to be a murky one despite the uncertainty of the early hour, the final few stragglers were herded onto the bus in the centre of the convoy. It had a sixty-person capacity, but sixty-three were squeezed onto it, the other vehicles similarly overcrowded. Transport without hover-tech wasn’t exactly easy to find. Boarding the RV behind Spock, Leonard found Admiral Pike and Amanda already there, the latter of whom he sat beside on the side-facing seats in the back. Admiral Pike was facing them, along with a Security cadet whose name escaped Leonard, his wheelchair clipped to the wall behind him.

‘Theodore will be seated at the front with Jim and I,’ Spock explained, following Liora as she ran straight into Amanda’s knees. ‘Mother, will you be all right if Liora remains with you? There is no space for a second car seat, and I do not wish to compromise her safety in any way.’

‘Sure,’ Amanda smiled, fitting the seat into place. ‘It’s no trouble at all, and I’m sure Leonard and Chris will help out if needed.’

‘Of course we will,’ Chris confirmed, rubbing the heel of his hand over his stump in a way that made Leonard frown.

‘Yeah, sure.’

Spock fitted a sleepy Liora into the car seat, sinking to one knee before her.

‘Slor-veh, your Daddy and I will be over there with your brother. We will not be far at all.’

Leonard didn’t hear how she responded – if she did at all – because he was firmly focused on the way Chris grimaced as he rubbed his leg.

‘That hurtin’ you?’ he questioned, hand already straying to his medical bag.

The Admiral shook his head, frowning.

‘No, it’s fine. Just a tightness.’

‘So it’s hurtin’ you,’ Leonard retorted, taking a hypospray from his bag. ‘Don’t pull a Jim, Admiral.’

‘I’m not,’ Pike said grumpily, though he did allow the pain medication to be delivered without complaint, ‘but I’m no whiner.’

‘Never said you were.’

As he sat back in his seat, handing Liora’s teddy bear to her when she dropped it, Jim appeared with a radio in hand.

‘Chris, d’you want to address everyone before we leave?’

‘Yeah, give it here,’ Pike replied, beckoning for the radio.

Jim stroked Liora’s hair as Pike began speaking on all frequencies, exchanging a small smile with Leonard as he did so.

‘Good morning, everyone. I know it might still feel like the middle of the night for some of you, but this is the time we’ve calculated as being safest to leave. I hope you’re all feeling positive about the journey we’re about to make, because once we’re on the Enterprise, we’ll never have to worry about being safe again.'

He paused for a moment, letting that sink in.

'Once we’ve left California, we’ll be making our way through Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Wyoming, Nebraska, and then on to Iowa. It might seem like a complicated trajectory, but it’s a lot of travelling through rural areas which are much less likely to be filled with the reanimated. If anyone has any pressing concerns, there should be at least one member of the Security team onboard your vehicle, and a good deal more radios just in case. Now, I’ll pass you onto Captain Kirk.’

Jim took the radio in one smooth movement, bringing it to his lips.

‘There isn’t much more to say than Admiral Pike already has, but if there are any problems, feel free to contact us, and we will do our best to fix them. Thank you for your cooperation so far, ladies and gentlemen. You’ll be updated on our progress once we’re out of the city. Kirk out.’

Clipping the radio back onto his belt, Jim stood, casting an eye over the group.

‘Everyone ready?’ he asked, not waiting for an answer before he turned his attention to Liora, who reached sleepily for him. ‘Sweetie, I’ll be just up there with Sa-mekh and Theo. Right there, baby.’

He kissed her temple and tucked her blanket back over her, and Leonard smiled fondly as her eyelids drooped.

‘I’ll be up front,’ Jim said quietly, moving towards the side door. ‘I’d just climb over, but I don’t want to land on Theo.’

As two doors opened and shut in quick succession, Leonard focused his attention on the Security cadet, who was looking quite pale.

‘What’s your name again?’

‘Lewinsky, sir,’ he replied, a lock of dark hair falling over his face, which he impatiently tucked behind his ear.

‘Lewinsky, right. You’re lookin’ a little peaky there.’

‘I’m all right,’ Lewinsky insisted, his smile a little strained. ‘Just tired, that’s all.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘Yeah, I’m all right,’ Lewinsky repeated softly, his eyes flicking to the sleeping child beside Amanda. ‘Promise.’

Not entirely satisfied, Leonard sat back in his seat, shifting his eyes away from the cadet and towards the front of the RV, where Jim was in the driver’s seat, and Spock was securing Theo in. The engine started a moment later, the rumble of it vibrating through the floor under Leonard’s feet as they began to move towards the gates they had used to enter the place, newly opened and unguarded.

Twisting in his seat, Leonard saw faces appear through the windows of Gamma, those who remained silently seeing them off. They disappeared from his field of vision as the RV moved off, hidden first by the window frames, then by the building itself as his perspective changed, left behind. There was an ugly sort of lurch in Leonard’s stomach, a vicarious dread regarding their fate, and he could see it reflected in Amanda’s eyes as he turned away from the outside.

‘What’s going to happen to them?’ she asked, her lovely face twisted with pre-emptive grief.

‘Hopefully, they’ll be able to stay in, and defend, Gamma,’ Chris replied, his tone less than positive. ‘We’ve left them with enough supplies to last them for a long time – years if need be – but if I thought that was the safest option, I’d have boarded us all in.’

He sighed, fiddling with a loose thread from the chair below him.

‘They had a choice. They made it.’

Leonard closed his eyes, the useless waste of life going against everything he had ever learnt as a doctor, and yet… And yet. They couldn’t force people to follow them, especially when none of them knew whether their journey would be successful at all. When he opened his eyes, he caught Lewinsky staring, two faint pink spots appearing on his cheekbones as he hurriedly looked away. Leonard read nothing into it, putting his apparent fascination down to daydreaming.

‘How long do we expect the journey will last?’ Amanda continued, filling the miserable silence.

Spock turned his head, the harsh slope of his ear highlighted in the early morning sun.

‘There are too many variables to accurately predict the length of time it will take to reach the Enterprise. It could potentially be months before we arrive.’

‘I reckon we’ll have passed the year mark by then,’ Jim added, briefly meeting Leonard’s eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘Since the beginning of the whole thing, I mean.’

‘That’ll be a fun anniversary,’ Leonard drawled, earning a soft snort from Lewinsky.

‘It’ll all be worth it in the end,’ Jim said firmly, confidence ringing in his words. ‘When we’re up there, we’ll never have to worry about any of this ever again.’

As if by silent agreement, nobody spoke as they left the campus, the odd shuffling Feral mown down by the RV, which gained speed on the sparsely-populated trail leading away from the Academy. There had been no attacks originating from this side of campus, and Leonard hoped that they’d find a relatively quiet way that morning, if only because encountering problems so early on would certainly have an effect on morale. Turning his head to look out of the window, Leonard saw familiar scenery in reverse, the mass of infected that had been clawing at the gates further up the wall beginning to shuffle slowly after them. It would be a while yet before they would be forced into urban areas, and before that happened, he was going to relax as best he could.

With silence pervading, Leonard dared to glance at Lewinsky, who, in turn, was staring out of his own window. He needed a haircut, Leonard mused, watching as a lock of dark brown hair slipped over his forehead once more, and he combed it impatiently back with long fingers before dropping his hand to his lap. Lewinsky sat upright in his seat, one knee resting on the chair so that he didn’t twist his back, and Leonard realised that that strange lurch in his stomach was attraction, not the nerves to which he had become accustomed.

Looking hastily away, Leonard found himself confronted by Amanda’s knowing smile. He feigned ignorance, grateful that he wasn’t prone to blushing, and concentrated on the bracelet Joanna had made for him. Here lay the proof of the dangers of love in this environment, fragile and fraying on his wrist. Not that love was even in the realm of possibility. Not at all.

Hours later, when the sun was high in the sky, the convoy came to a halt in a quiet corner of suburbia. It was a chance for everyone to stretch their legs, to use the bathroom, to get a little sunlight, but despite the stillness of their surroundings, Leonard remained wary. Jim seemed to have the same idea, with Security on high alert and the children watched obsessively, keeping close to the convoy just in case. Even when Jim and Spock had to make the rounds, and the children were with he and Amanda, Leonard knew that most of their attention was on Liora and Theo, judging by the frequency with which they turned to check on them.

‘It’s like they don’t trust us,’ Leonard quipped, pulling his collar from Theo’s mouth.

‘They’re just worried,’ Amanda replied patiently, as Liora swung from her hands. ‘Most parents are generally, without all this.’

‘Yeah. Worry’s a sensible thing nowadays.’

Holding Theo above his head, and listening to him chuckle in the infectious way that babies did, Leonard’s feelings were bittersweet. Being with the kids reminded him of happier days, when Joanna had been young enough that they still lived together as a family, but also the great loss he had suffered with her death. They would never replace her, but he loved them fiercely nonetheless.

‘You’re good with kids.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard saw Amanda move away as Lewinsky approached, the arch of her eyebrow eerily similar to Spock’s, if not her mischievous grin. Soft grey eyes met his as he swayed with Theo on his hip, and despite his own vehement refusal of attraction, he felt his stomach flip.

‘Thanks. I have-’ He swallowed dryly, a lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away. ‘ _Had_ a daughter myself.’

Lewinsky’s eyes widened, then filled with a kind of sympathy that Leonard couldn’t bear to see. Looking away, he patted Theo’s bottom comfortingly as he grizzled, the warm little body against him soothing some of the ragged pain that surfaced whenever he thought of Joanna.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lewinsky said mournfully, hand twitching towards him in an abortive attempt at touch. ‘Was it… I mean, did she..?’

Leonard nodded, tearing a little too much skin from his lower lip with his teeth. The wound stung as he ran his tongue across it, tasting iron.

‘It was near the beginning,’ he replied, voice rough. ‘Her name was Joanna. She was five.’

Lewinsky looked sorrowfully at him, hands fiddling with his belt.

‘God, that’s terrible. I’m- I’m sorry, Doctor McCoy.’

‘Leonard. You can call me Leonard.’

Lewinsky smiled gently, allowing Theo to grasp his finger as the baby reached for him.

‘I’m Alfie then,’ he corrected, dimples appearing along with his widening smile.

‘Want to hold him?’ Leonard asked, as Theo squirmed in his arms. ‘I’m sure Jim and Spock won’t mind.’

Neither he nor Theo gave Lewinsky – Alfie – much choice, whatever his response might have been. He held Theo out and the baby grabbed onto Alfie with all his might, clutching at the fabric of his red shirt. Although he seemed rather flustered, Alfie adjusted quickly to the weight in his arms, and Leonard stood back, satisfied, as he bounced Theo a little, matching the baby’s smile with his own much toothier one.

‘You’re so cute,’ he beamed, wincing slightly at Theo’s delighted squeal. ‘Yes, you are. Are the kids the Captain’s, or the Commander’s? Or both?’

‘Biologically, they don’t belong to either of them. But that’s never mattered, not to any of us.’

‘Of course not,’ Alfie agreed, making nonsense noises at Theo as he babbled away.

Leonard watched with a strange tightness in his chest as the two interacted, ignoring Amanda as she hovered in the very periphery of his vision, a smug smile on her lips.

‘Giving my kids away, Bones?’

Although startled, Leonard had already fixed a withering look on his face by the time he turned round, noticing that people were beginning to return to their vehicles.

‘Nah, just lendin’ ’em out. Trouble?’

Jim shrugged, re-holstering his phaser.

‘We’ve taken out a few, and I can see more in the distance, but they’re pretty far away,’ he explained, taking Theo from Alfie’s arms with a bright smile. ‘Hello, gorgeous boy.’

‘Hi,’ Leonard quipped, earning a mocking snort.

‘I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to hold him, sir,’ Alfie blurted, looking nervously at Spock as he approached, holding Liora. ‘Doctor McCoy said it would be fine.’

‘Neither of us have any objection,’ Spock said quietly.

‘If Bones trusts you, so do we,’ Jim added, ushering them back towards the RV. ‘Come on. I’d rather not have any close calls today.’

He kissed Theo’s palm as the baby held it in front of his lips, Spock and Amanda close behind with Liora, and as usual, Leonard felt something bittersweet to see it.

‘Why don’t you two take some time with the kids in the back? I’ll be fine driving.’

‘And I don’t mind being up there with Leonard,’ Alfie offered, his enthusiasm making Leonard’s lips curve without his permission.

Jim shrugged, gesturing for Alfie and Leonard to walk ahead of them. As he did so, he caught Leonard’s attention by poking him in the back.

 _‘Leonard?’_ he mouthed, making a kissy face which Leonard was tempted to smack right off of him. With the children there, however, he settled for glaring daggers, vowing to have a fuller revenge later.

‘All right, Chris?’ he heard Jim say as they boarded the RV, having left him inside on request.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I dozed off a little, I think.’

‘Wish I could doze off,’ Leonard muttered, shifting restlessly in the driver’s seat.

‘When you want me to take over, just say the word,’ Alfie offered, swinging one leg up and sitting on his foot. ‘I don’t mind at all.’

Leonard watched him brush back that wayward lock of hair with an inexplicable wave of fondness, a fondness which was only slightly marred by the stringy-haired Feral pressing itself up against the front of the RV, leaving bloody smears there with its grasping hands.

‘Kirk to Security,’ he heard Jim say, and turned to see him on the radio, while Spock strapped the children in on either side of him. ‘I need a head count, and verbal confirmation that we’ve got everyone.’

There was a pause, during which Liora turned to stare helplessly at Leonard, evidently displeased by the horrific confinement she had been placed under. Luckily, Spock distracted her before she could get too riled up, and the reports from Security came pouring in quickly enough that the mob that could be seen in the distance posed little threat. Leonard watched indifferently as the Feral, dressed in a torn SFPD uniform, dragged its hands down the metal of the RV, suppressing a wince at the faint shrieking sound it made.

‘We’re clear to go, McCoy,’ Admiral Pike called, catching Leonard’s eye in the rear-view mirror.

‘Yes, sir.’

Almost on autopilot, Leonard started the engine and slowly set off, watching with relief the rest of the convoy following behind. If he strained his ears, he could hear clearly the conversation between Jim and Spock, but considering the frequency of words he’d come to recognise as endearments, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Instead, with one eye alternately on the road and the map on the dashboard, he paid almost equal attention to Alfie. He was a fidgeter – Leonard could tell that much already – fiddling with his shirt sleeves and moving about in his seat. Leonard had already noticed that he was pretty tall, perhaps an inch shorter than he was, but the way he awkwardly crossed and uncrossed his legs made him seem even more so.

‘Ants in your pants?’

The question stopped Alfie’s wriggling in its tracks, a faint flush stealing over his face as he froze in a decidedly uncomfortable-looking position.

‘Sorry. I’ve never been great at being still. Always needed somethin’ to do with my hands.’

His soft Southern accent – a little similar to Leonard’s, but not quite the same – was somewhat distracting.

‘You don’t need to apologise,’ Leonard insisted, turning the RV down a quiet road the map indicated. ‘Where’re you from by the way?’

‘Alabama,’ Alfie said softly. ‘Place called Madison. Sounds like you’re from pretty close by.’

‘Yeah, Georgia. How’d you end up in Starfleet anyway? You didn’t hear accents like ours too often at the Academy.’

Alfie shrugged, a small, painful smile on his face.

‘My sister was on the Science track. I visited her and happened to like the place. Her enthusiasm was always infectious.’

He let out a quiet, shaky breath, tucking a leg beneath him.

‘I lost her in the very beginning. She left the dorms when we were all still pretty clueless, said she’d be five minutes. When I went to go and find her an hour later, she was… she was one of _them.’_

‘I’m sorry,’ Leonard said miserably. He wanted to reach out, to console him with touch, but he wasn’t sure how well that would be received.

‘It’s okay,’ Alfie replied, shaking his head. His hands trembled in his lap. ‘What about you? How did you end up here?’

Driving smoothly round half a Feral in the road, Leonard glanced back at Jim and Spock, their heads almost touching as they bent over Theo, and his heart squeezed in longing.

‘I was just a regular doctor for nine years before I entered Starfleet. My marriage fell apart, then my wife won sole custody of our little girl, and… well, I kind of needed a new purpose in life. Plus, ‘Fleet paid more so I could save more for Joanna, even if her mother wouldn’t let me see her.’

‘You were a doctor for _nine years_ before you joined Starfleet?’ Alfie asked incredulously. ‘How old are you?’

‘Older than you,’ Leonard replied, huffing an amused breath out of his nose. ’32.’

‘So what, you graduated early? You some kind of genius?’

With Alfie’s admiring gaze on him, Leonard felt his cheeks heat, and furiously attempted to suppress a blush.

‘I worked pretty hard,’ he said eventually, hoping that the subject would be dropped. ‘How old are you anyway?’

‘Twenty-five.’

‘And were you always in Security?’

Alfie laughed quietly, shaking his head.

‘People never believe me, but, ah, I was a librarian.’

‘A librarian?’ Jim blurted, piercing the little bubble the two of them had been in. ‘Real, paper books?

‘The genuine thing,’ Alfie smiled, turning in his chair.

For the next few hours, Leonard concentrated mostly on driving as Jim and Alfie chatted excitedly about classic literature, a little miffed that Jim had stolen his conversation partner. Every so often, he noticed Jim eyeing him in the mirror, as if he were biding his time, and when they came to a stop, the setting sun leaving trails of pink and orange in its wake, he realised why. As the arrangements were being made for the night, Alfie briefly having left the RV, Jim sidled up to him in the driver’s seat.

 _‘Leonard,’_ he cooed mockingly, flapping a hand in front of his face. ‘Oh, _Leonard.’_

‘Shut up, asshole.’

‘Leonard, _baby.’_

‘Shut _up!’_

As Jim prepared himself for another breathy sigh, he stopped abruptly, and Leonard, while thankful, was curious. He turned to see Spock standing there with a face of stone, Jim’s expression shifting as if they were having a conversation (which they probably were).

‘T’hy’la, I was only teasing,’ he protested, holding two fingers out.

After a moment of inaction, Spock’s expression softened a little, and he returned the gesture with a caress that made Leonard shudder in discomfort.

‘You’re teasin’ me, and this is the shit I have to put up with on a daily basis,’ he pointed out, nose wrinkling.

‘Oh, you love it,’ Jim scoffed, taking Theo out of his car seat. He had already liberated Liora, who had a firm grip on Spock’s hand, rubbing sleepily at her eyes with the other. ‘You’re staying in here tonight, by the way.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Leonard snapped, regretting his tone when Liora flinched. ‘Sorry, honey. Jim, there are plenty of people who need to be enclosed more than I do.’

Jim shook his head, smiling widely.

‘Nyota had the genius idea of using the luggage compartments. Sure, we’ve filled some of them with gas and supplies, but there should be enough room for most people to be here tonight.’

‘And what about the rest?’ Leonard asked, slightly mollified.

‘Security, for the most part. There are guard shifts every two hours, and I’ll be on the second. We’ve also got a few volunteers who are going to sleep in the houses on the hill once they’re cleared out.’

‘What rotation do you want me on?’

‘Bones, you don’t have to-’

‘I want to,’ Leonard insisted, holding his hand out to Theo as he started to cry.

Jim took a moment to coo at Theo, rocking him soothingly, but the wailing only increased in volume.

‘I will change Theodore,’ Spock said quietly, taking him into his free arm and into the back.

‘Thanks, honey. I won’t be long.’

Jim turned back to Leonard with a crooked, teasing smile.

‘Lewinsky’s on the last watch, if that affects your decision,’ he grinned, raising his eyebrows. ‘I’d love to give you more shit about it, but Chris and I are going to go and make the rounds.’

‘Infant,’ Leonard spat, though it held little of its usual false venom.

Not a minute later, as Leonard watched the sky slowly darken, Alfie popped his head back through the door.

‘Leonard, I think the Captain is having an allergic reaction,’ he said urgently, at which point, Spock came storming out of the back bedroom, Amanda hovering in the doorway with Theo in her arms.

‘He is not far away. Come, Leonard.’

Of course, Jim’s inability to look out for himself would be the only constant in this world. Rolling his eyes, though the feeling in his stomach was anything but blasé, Leonard snatched up his medical bag and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I actually love Alfie - is that narcissistic? I can't help it either way! In my head he looks like Gaspard Ulliel, if any of you want to check that gorgeous guy out. Alfie aside, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! If you did, please let me know in the comments, because I love reading each and every one :D I also have something else to show you all:
> 
> [to-a-merrier-world](http://to-a-merrier-world.tumblr.com/) on tumblr made me [this](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/post/136973464411/to-a-merrier-world-hope-is-being-able-to-see) _incredible_ edit, and everyone should go and check it out - the kids are remarkably accurate, and I love it so much! Both of our blogs are linked there, if you want to check us out. Have a nice week, everybody :)


	22. Of Beauty And Brutality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's this week's chapter - hope you enjoy! And for those of you who aren't keen on gore, there's quite a large swathe between 'a scene of such carnage that it made Jim’s stomach turn' and 'signalled its transformation'.

Stardate 2261.80. 0825 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

This morning, Jim is particularly bleary-eyed, and impatient to boot. Nobody is faultless, but I have come to expect a certain level of friendliness from him, a character trait which seems to be mostly absent today. Although he has no particular engagements that I know of, his eyes dart to the door all too often, knees bouncing agitatedly at every pause. His words, though civil, are short and clipped, his descriptions, often lengthy, now rushed. I want to ask him what the hell his problem is; turns out, I don’t have to.

JK: Not to be rude, but can we hurry things up? _[He lets out a loud, huffed breath, crossing one leg over the other.]_ I’ve got a sick little boy that I want to get back to.

Theo is ill? I’m sorry to hear that.

_[Jim nods sharply, exhaustion marring his expression.]_

JK: Spock and I have been up with him all night, and Bones for half of it. So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather get back to him as quickly as possible.

Of course.

JK: So, what do you want to know?

I know the journey to the Enterprise took longer than anticipated.

JK: _[snorts]_ Oh, yeah.

I’d like to know about those first few weeks, really. The adjustment between settlement and nomadism must have been difficult.

JK: It wasn’t as bad for us – my family, I mean. We’d only been settled at the Academy for four months or so, whereas lots of people had been there since the beginning. We were used to travelling in cramped conditions for long periods of time; we’d seen the reality of what was going on in the outside world. _[He speaks quickly, eyes unfocused, his restless shifting indicating that he’d rather be elsewhere.]_ It wasn’t that people didn’t understand the danger – it’s just that experiences drive behaviour, and it took a little while for them to get used to a different way of life.

And I assume that during the adjustment period, you encountered some problems?

_[Jim nods, brow creasing.]_

JK: We encountered problems throughout, but it was definitely one of the most difficult-

_[Jim breaks off as the sound of a child crying echoes down the corridor, becoming increasingly louder over time. He stands, his attention now completely redirected, then begins walking towards the door without another word to me. A few seconds later, it is flung open, and Spock walks in with Theodore wailing in his arms, the boy reaching pitifully for Jim. His face is ruddy and tear-streaked, his body shaking with the force of his cries, and Jim takes hold of him immediately, pressing the back of his hand against Theo’s forehead as he rocks him on his hip._

_‘Oh God, poor baby.’_

_‘I believe that we should take him to Leonard,’ Spock says urgently, backing up a step to give Jim space. ‘His temperature is rising.’_

_As he moves, Theo screams hysterically and reaches for Spock, one hand clutching at Jim’s shirt as he strains for him._

_‘Shh, pi-veh,’ Spock soothes, letting Theo take hold of his hand._

_‘Yeah, I think we need to go. Where’s Liora?’_

_‘Mother has her.’_

_Jim nods, catching my eye._

_‘We need to leave,’ he insists, cradling Theo to him. ‘Let’s pick this up another time?’_

_‘Of course. Computer, end recording.’]_

* * *

What with leaving the Academy, beginning a two thousand mile journey across land filled with things that wanted to eat his family, and having a severe allergic reaction, Jim had had a pretty rough day. Standing just outside the bus, blowing puffs of warm air into his frigid, numb hands, he stared out into the dark, and willed time to pass. He was coming to the end of his guard shift, and was looking forward to getting back to the children, and Spock, who had been on the previous rotation. Not only was it pretty cool outside, it was also mind-numbingly boring, his closest companions far enough away that attempting to initiate conversation would have only attracted the wrong type of attention – something that they had learned the hard way.

They had settled in the parking lot of a roadside restaurant, which had been cleared of the few infected that inhabited it hours ago. Those who hadn’t been able to find space in a car had all piled in there, and with the doors bolted from the inside, Jim wasn’t worried about their safety. He was rather more concerned about his family, and the other guards, a few of whom had had some pretty close calls that evening when they hadn’t been paying attention. Speaking of which: as Jim’s thoughts drifted back to Spock, it took a few moments for the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs to register as dangerous, but when it did, his phaser was out and trained on the treeline before him in a matter of seconds. He waited for the creature to emerge from the trees before he pointed his torch at it, hoping for a flinch, for a cringing human to appear. Instead, it stared blankly into the light, unblinking, and Jim shot it down with no further consideration, watching it crumple with only numbness in his chest.

_‘Want me to take care of that, sir?’_ Patel hissed, his voice crackling as it came through on the radio.

‘No, we’ll leave it ‘til the morning when we can see. Thanks anyway.’

The minutes passed like hours as Jim alternately clock-watched and kept an eye out for more Ferals, straining his eyes in the scant light that the moon provided. Finally, when the cold had settled so deeply in Jim’s bones that he thought he might never feel again, Hendorff came to relieve him.

‘It’s one a.m., sir,’ he murmured in greeting.

‘Thanks, Hendorff. If you have any problems, you know where I am.’

Tired beyond belief, Jim dragged his stiff, uncooperative body towards the RV, at which point, his ears caught the faint sound of crying. Despite the fact that he suspected Spock was awake, he wasn’t fantastic at being able to tell through the bond, so in lieu of asking, he forced himself to speed up. A minute later, he entered the RV to find Bones and Spock huddled over an inconsolable Theo, Lewinsky watching worriedly from the sidelines. Jim’s heart skipped a beat, but before he could go out of his mind with worry, Spock reassured him.

_All is well, t’hy’la. He is merely teething._

Sagging in relief, Jim approached and laid his head on Spock’s shoulder, letting Theo’s grasping hand curl around his finger as Bones attempted to apply numbing gel to his gums. Theo wrenched his head from side to side, screeching angrily.

_He is proving difficult to calm,_ Spock admitted, rather redundantly, as Theo strained from Bones’ hold.

‘Bones, give him to Spock a minute.’

‘Why?’ Leonard asked grumpily, though he did so nonetheless, the handover proving remarkably easy as Theo latched onto Spock with desperate strength.

He was still crying, but at least the screaming had stopped, and as Spock rocked him slowly, his ragged breathing began to calm.

‘There, see,’ Jim said softly, smoothing down his fluffy hair. ‘Just wanted one of us, didn’t you, sweetie?’

‘Should I try the gel again?’

‘I’ll do it,’ Jim offered, taking the tube from him.

Still grizzling, Theo was reluctant to open his mouth, but when Jim coaxed him with sweet nonsense, he finally allowed him to apply the gel. Almost instantly, the tears stopped, his little body relaxing in Spock’s arms.

‘The numbness should last about twelve hours,’ Bones explained, eyes flickering over to Lewinsky, who sat up, tousle-haired, in one of the pull-out sofa beds. ‘Like magic, huh?’

‘Quite the opposite, Doctor,’ Spock sniffed, cradling Theo to him.

Predictably, Bones’ face darkened, but he looked rather less intimidating than usual in cotton pyjamas.

‘It’s a figure of speech, Spock.’

When Spock opened his mouth, presumably to argue, Jim held a hand up.

‘We don’t need this at one in the morning. Thanks for your help, Bones. We’re going to bed.’

‘No problem,’ Bones replied, all but collapsing in the bed beside Lewinsky’s. ‘Turn off the light, will ya?’

‘Sure.’

Taking Spock’s free hand in his own, he did as Bones asked, and led Spock past a sleeping Amanda and Chris towards their bedroom at the back. Within it, Liora was still flat out on the little bed they had set up for her, and Theo was halfway there himself, a dead weight in Spock’s arms.

‘I will lay him down,’ Spock said quietly, holding him out for Jim to kiss.

‘Night, baby,’ Jim whispered, watching Spock do the same with a warm burst of affection in his chest. _You tired, honey? I’m exhausted._

He punctuated his statement with a jaw-cracking yawn, already stripping off and searching blindly for his pyjama pants.

_I am also in need of sleep._

At some point, Spock must have taken his shirt off, because Jim felt cool skin and soft hair press up against his back, Spock’s hand coming round to stroke at his stomach. Jim arched into his touch, feeling the first stirrings of arousal as Spock nosed against his neck, hand still massaging him.

‘We can’t,’ Jim said wistfully, turning his head enough to pull him into a slow, deep kiss. _I love you so much, you know that, right?_

_Yes, my Jim. And I you._

Jim sighed into his mouth, bringing up a hand to stroke the side of his face as they kissed languorously, more out of love than passion. Eventually, they broke apart, Jim pressing a final, soft kiss to his lips as he laced their fingers together, and led Spock towards the bed.

_You must be more careful with your nutritional choices, t’hy’la,_ Spock admonished, as they curled into one another, Jim’s head coming to rest in its customary place on Spock’s chest. _Your reaction today was… unnerving._

_Bones fixed me up though, right? And it wasn’t as if I intended to stop breathing-_

Spock’s sudden rigidity was not a good sign. In an attempt to calm him, Jim kissed his sternum, fingers gently playing with his chest hair.

_I’m sorry, love,’_ he murmured, nuzzling into him. _I’ll try and be more careful._

_And I will warn the cadets about your allergies._

_I think you already did that,_ Jim grinned, _quite extensively._

_Your life was threatened. I will not apologise for berating the person whom endangered you._

_Didn’t say you should,_ Jim retorted, though the echo of Spock’s fear from the afternoon softened his tone a little. _I would have done the same, you know that. Though there would probably have been a lot more yelling._

_Quite possibly,_ Spock replied, making Jim laugh quietly.

_We’d better get to sleep. I’m sure we’ll have lots of problems to deal with in the morning._

_Yes, k’diwa. I wish you peaceful dreams._

_You too,_ Jim whispered, accepting the cool arm that curled around his waist with a pleasant shiver.

Still on high alert, it took a while for him to calm down enough to shut his mind down, by which point, Spock was sleeping peacefully. Spock’s breathing was deep and slow, his heartbeat more so than usual, and, moulding his hand around the side in which he could feel it flutter beneath Spock’s skin, that steady rhythmic thump proved as much a soporific as a comfort for Jim.

The day dawned brightly, and far, far too early for Jim’s liking. He groaned as light streamed through the thin curtains of the bedroom, burrowing his face back into Spock’s chest. Cool fingers trailed up and down his spine, which would have been much more pleasant were it not for the heaviness in his eyelids.

_I believe that it is time to ‘get up’, ashayam._

Jim sleepily murmured his agreement, but then Spock jerked beneath him, scrabbling to sit up.

_What’s the matter?_

_I cannot hear-_

Spock cut himself off, an awful aching dread taking over the bond, and Jim followed his gaze to find the crib beside their bed empty. Jim stopped breathing.

‘Where is he?’ he whimpered, panic stealing what little composure he had.

Spock shook his head jerkily, stepping past their sleeping daughter, and as he did so, dizzying relief filtered through their connection. Before Jim could question him, he pointed at the door, to which there was a note attached –

_Boys,_

_I have Theo._

_Amanda_

Jim felt the tightness in his chest fade, but his adrenaline was still pumping.

‘Thank God,’ he breathed, making sure not to wake Liora as he opened the door and found Amanda and Chris in their opposite alcoves, Theo playing with a teething ring on Chris’ lap. Both adults turned to him, and to Spock, who had come up behind him. Amanda must have seen the lingering panic in his face, because the smile on her face faded.

‘Did you not see my note?’

‘Not until we’d panicked,’ Jim replied, anger tinging his words.

‘Mother, I appreciate that you were perhaps trying to help us, but taking Theodore was a foolish thing to do,’ Spock added, rather more gently. ‘Imagine how you might have felt had you woken and discovered my infant self missing.’

‘She was only trying to help,’ Chris cut in, tugging at the teething ring.

‘I know, and I totally appreciate that help,’ Jim stressed, forcing a smile as Amanda looked up at him with mournful eyes. ‘I really do, but please, please wake me if you do that again. I don’t mind losing sleep if I know where he is. He’s our baby, and we’ve come too close to losing him before. Same goes for Liora.’

Amanda nodded, shamefaced.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think things through.’

‘I know,’ Jim sighed, reaching out to stroke Theo’s hair as he babbled nonsensically, ‘but we forgive you. A head’s up would be nice next time, that’s all. What time is it, anyway?’

‘0705,’ Spock replied, as perfectly correct as usual.

‘Great,’ Jim smiled, sitting beside Chris and Theo, Spock taking his place beside his mother. ‘We’ve got nearly an hour before we set off.’

‘Maybe a shirt would be a good idea?’ Amanda suggested, staring pointedly at his bare chest.

‘Oh. Oh, yeah.’

Jim flushed, making his way back towards the bedroom, and noticing that Spock was already clothed.

_When did you put a shirt on?_

_As I was leaving the bedroom._

_Well, thanks for the heads up,_ Jim grumped, detouring to the bathroom.

He took a lightning-fast shower before returning to the room to change, finding Liora stirring in her duvet cocoon.

‘Morning, sleepy,’ he sang, pulling her out of bed when she reached for him. ‘Let’s check your pull-up, eh?’

Upon closer examination, she seemed to be dry, which Jim was delighted about. After praising her profusely, and taking her into the bathroom to do her business, he led her out to where the others were congregated, Bones and Lewinsky now there, and Theo in Spock’s lap.

‘Did you miss us?’ he called, pouting as his eldest was immediately taken from him. ‘Uh, you do know they’re mine and Spock’s right?’

‘Yeah, but you get to spend loads of time with them,’ Bones sniffed, pointing Liora towards the pop-up book Lewinsky had opened for her.

‘Because they’re _our_ kids.’

_I suspect that protesting will prove ineffective, t’hy’la._

_Mmm,_ Jim agreed, not entirely unhappy about it. At least they had an extended family who cared about them, unlike Spock, or himself. _I’m snatching her back for a little while before we set off, though._

Spock tickled Theo’s cheek with a finger, and Jim’s heart melted at the squealing laugh that elicited, noticing the twitch of Spock’s lips with a thrill of delight. Theo reached pudgy arms upwards, grasping onto Spock’s shirt as he babbled nonsensically, big blue eyes staring adoringly up at him.

‘Can you say ‘dada’, baby?’ Jim cooed, leaning against Spock’s shoulder. ‘Say ‘dada’.’

‘He is too young to speak,’ Spock reminded him, to which Jim shrugged.

‘He’ll never speak if we don’t stimulate him. Say ‘sa-mekh’, Theo. ‘Saaaa-mekh.’’

In response, Theo started blowing raspberries, waving his fists excitedly. Defeated, Jim slumped back in his chair.

‘There’s plenty of time for that yet,’ Chris appeased, handing Theo a teething ring to gnaw on. ‘Has Scotty told you that he’s trying to build me a prosthetic?’

Jim shook his head, not entirely surprised.

‘You should ask for different attachments. Normal leg, peg leg… sword leg.’

‘Bottle opener,’ Chris said blithely, and Jim snorted, considering the endless possibilities.

‘Scotty’s a genius. I’m sure he’ll work something out.’

Chris opened his mouth to respond, but anything he might have said was drowned out by an unholy shriek that came from nearby.

‘Take care of the kids,’ Jim ordered, pulling his phaser roughly from his belt as he ran through the RV. ‘Lewinsky, with me.’

Tearing out of the door with Spock and Lewinsky close behind, Jim immediately caught sight of a great huddle of people facing away from him, within which someone was crying. Jim pushed his way through, finding that when he reached the centre of the group, the intense feeling of dread he had carried out of the RV with him was justified. Within the circle of grey-faced cadets and civilians was a scene of such carnage that it made Jim’s stomach turn.

There was a small, battered corpse on the concrete, picked to the bone in many places, muscle and fat exposed in others, curled in on itself in an apparent attempt at self-protection. With even its scalp ripped away in places, Jim couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, the tangled clumps of hair that lay nearby drawing his eye and making his gorge rise. On one side of the body was one of the reanimated, bloated, and unmoving. On the other was somebody Jim paid rather more attention to; a female cadet on her knees, evidently the source of the noise he had heard before. She rocked back and forth, moaning like a wounded animal, the sound guttural and repetitive as she sobbed into her hands. Her hair, dark and dishevelled, trailed on the floor and covered her face as she wept. Beside her, a young man with red-rimmed eyes crouched with his eyes trained on what was left of the child, face bloodless.

‘Security, I need you to form a perimeter,’ Jim said loudly, voice rising above the woman’s agonised sobs. ‘Everyone else who isn’t family needs to get back into their vehicles, now.’

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, until there was only those whom Jim suspected to be the child’s parents, himself, and Spock, standing close to the treeline.

‘Melissa,’ Jim said gently, praying that he’d got her name right.

She twitched, but didn’t look up, her grieving having quietened since the crowd had scattered.

‘Melissa, I’m so sorry.’

She shuddered, her hands dropping from her face and slapping into the concrete instead, the curtain of her hair concealing her face from view. Her wrenching sobs seemed to originate from deep within, her body shaking with each new indrawn breath, and Jim, overcome with empathy, crouched beside her.

‘Melissa,’ he repeated, tentatively touching her shoulder.

As if the contact had unfrozen her, Melissa’s head snapped to the side in one swift movement, her face contorted with fury even as tears dried upon it.

‘I asked you to _watch_ him,’ she spat at the young man – Alex? – tone bitter and aggressive.

‘I looked away for five seconds, I swear,’ Alex said hoarsely. ‘Five seconds, and he was gone.’

‘Five seconds,’ she repeated, voice dripping with contempt. ‘You stupid fuck.’

She choked on the final word, and although Jim waited for a screaming fit, there came only a soft, agonised whimper, and a fresh slew of tears which dripped slowly onto the concrete.

_Jim, I am aware that they are understandably upset, but the child will likely reanimate within the hour._

_I know,_ Jim replied miserably, trying to suppress the thought of _their_ children meeting the same fate. _I know, but I can’t be insensitive about this. I mean, what if-_

He cut himself off, but Spock evidently understood, judging by the wave of reassurance that passed through the bond, warm and comforting.

‘Melissa, Alex, I’m really sorry to say this, but I think you know what we have to do.’

Alex’s mouth trembled, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes as he screwed them shut, but Melissa had a completely different reaction. She looked directly at him for the first time, her face blotchy, expression wrecked.

_‘No,’_ she croaked, shaking her head desperately. ‘No, he doesn’t need it. Please, just leave him be.’

‘Melissa,’ Jim sighed, making sure to meet her bloodshot gaze. ‘I know this is difficult and I’m so sorry, but we need to prevent this happening to another child.’

‘But he’s my baby,’ she sobbed, nose streaming as much as her eyes.

‘I know,’ Jim said quietly, sorrow mixing with caution as time ticked away, ‘and he’ll get a proper burial, I promise. But we need to do this first.’

‘Oh God.’

Getting unsteadily to her feet, she staggered away, followed by her husband. He turned back for a moment, eyes wide and pleading.

‘Can you…’

He trailed off, looking back at his son’s body in despair.

‘Of course,’ Jim said gently, and Alex, shaking with misery, followed Melissa.

With his disappearance, only Spock and Jim remained beside the boy. The curtains on the bus were drawn, and Security surrounded the convoy, Lewinsky turning every so often to glance back at them. Jim stared down at the broken body with a lump in his throat that he was unable to swallow, latching on to the comfort that Spock provided through their connection.

‘I don’t even know his name.’

A large part of him wanted to gather Spock and the children close, never letting them out of his sight, but of course, that wasn’t viable. In place of the touch that Spock couldn’t provide, he filled the bond with warmth, and reassurance, and bone-deep love, which Jim tried his absolute best to return despite his misery.

‘I believe that his name was Archie,’ Spock informed him quietly, eyes dark with a compassion that Jim knew many wouldn’t recognise as such.

‘Archie,’ he repeated, taking his phaser from his belt. ‘I’m sorry, Archie.’

He was debating whether or not to move Archie’s body before putting him down, when he was sure that he saw his finger twitch. Heart squeezing, he held his phaser up, seeing Spock do the same as the twitch became a spasm, spreading from the boy’s hand to the rest of his mangled body. Jim was prepared to shoot, to prevent harm coming to anybody else, but actually doing it was something else. As Archie jerked and writhed, motor control slowly returning, Jim’s hazy vision substituted another child in his place. Joanna stared beseechingly at him, curling into a ball and holding up one little hand in front of her body in a gesture of submission, a plea for mercy. Jim’s resolve wavered, but then the threat that reality posed overrode his guilt, and his shaking hand raised to aim his phaser through Joanna’s apparition towards the corpse which arched and jerked, clearly in the final stages of reanimation.

_I’m sorry,_ he thought, gut twisting as his finger rested on the trigger.

Before he could shoot, however, phaser fire came from his right, and the body fell blessedly still, free of the unnatural writhing that had signalled its transformation. The apparition of Joanna melted away, and Jim turned to see Spock lowering his phaser, understanding in his eyes. Filled with gratitude and guilt all at once, Jim was about to speak, but then Lewinsky came over, expression grim.

‘Would you like us to bury him, sir?’

‘Get his parents back first,’ Jim replied, re-holstering his phaser with steadier hands. ‘They might want to say goodbye.’

Lewinsky nodded and left, and Jim was again prepared to speak to Spock when he heard a horrified hiss from behind him.

_‘Jesus.’_

Jim didn’t know at what point Bones had emerged from the RV, but now he was within clear sight of Archie’s corpse, his face waxy and pale.

‘What the hell happened?’

‘His father was supervising him, but became distracted,’ Spock explained, eyes flicking to where Lewinsky was leading Melissa and Alex back over. ‘An Infected then attacked him.’

Bones let out a weak sound of dismay, still staring at the body.

‘What the hell kind of parent lets their kid wander off in _this_ world?’ he asked angrily, two spots of colour rising on his pallid skin.

Neither of them replied – neither of them dared. Jim knew that as hard as it had been for him to see, for Bones, it was a thousand times worse. He’d lost a child when her fate had been out of his control, and to see another parent neglect his responsibility to keep his child safe must have been agonising. Reaching out, Jim took hold of Bones’ bicep and squeezed lightly, wanting him to know that he understood his anger.

Approaching footsteps heralded the approach of Lewinsky and Archie’s parents, and Jim stepped back to give them some space as they went over to the body, their grief a bitter throwback to New York. He watched them cry with a great heaviness in his heart; Bones shivering on his left, Spock on his right, gently stroking their fingers together.

The funeral – if one could call it a funeral – was quick, quiet, and solemn. Despite the Californian sunshine, it felt like the clouds were about to roll in, the misery of Archie’s parents tangible and infectious. Afterwards, Jim and Spock boarded the RV to leave, a full two hours after their predicted departure time, and were immediately accosted by two distraught children.

‘They’ve been wondering where you were,’ Amanda said warmly, holding Theo out as Liora ran to Spock.

Jim held his baby to his chest a little tighter than usual, breathing in his scent and nuzzling into his hair as he considered the very real possibility of losing the children to the scum that roamed Terra. Alex had repeatedly said that he had only looked away for a second or two, and if that was all it took, Jim wasn’t going to let either of them out of his sight. As if sensing his melancholy, Theo whimpered in his arms, and Jim kissed his head, reaching out to stroke Liora’s hair when she turned to look at him.

‘We’re back now,’ he soothed, reassuring himself as much as he was reassuring them. ‘It’s okay.’

‘That poor little boy,’ Amanda said quietly, and Jim nodded, his mouth pulling into a grim line.

‘I’m going to address everyone on the radio before we leave, if that’s all right with you, Chris.’

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘Liora, would you prefer to remain with Daddy and I, or your grandmother?’ Spock asked, hitching her higher on his hip.

‘Daddy an’ you.’

‘Very well,’ Spock agreed, turning his attention to Amanda. ‘Mother, would you mind keeping Theodore with you?’

‘Of course not,’ she smiled, holding her hands out for him.

Jim didn’t really want to let go of him, especially after what had happened that morning, but after a quick pass over to Spock for a cuddle, they relinquished him to Amanda. As Spock strapped Liora into her car seat between them, Jim took hold of his radio and began to speak.

‘I assume by now that most of you will have heard what happened this morning. If not, then I’m sorry to tell you that we lost a child. His name was Archie; he was eight years old. I know many of you already understand that pain, and I would ask that you be respectful of Archie’s parents as they grieve. I also have a serious request to make of you all. I’m sure that you’ll be doing this anyway, but in the light of recent events, please, look out for the children, whether they’re your own, or somebody else’s. Nobody wants this to happen again. We’re going to set off now, but as usual, if there are any problems, please contact me or the Admiral. Kirk out.’

Deflated, Jim sat back, silence pervading throughout the RV.

_You did well, t’hy’la,_ Spock praised, reaching over Liora to squeeze his knee. _I hope that your advice is heeded._

_Thanks, sweetheart. I hope so too._

‘Go, Daddy?’ Liora chirped, sounding absurdly positive after the horrors of the day.

‘Yeah, honey,’ Jim replied, turning over the engine. ‘We’re going.’

That night, after Jim’s turn on the guard rota, he collapsed into bed beside Spock, whose eyes immediately fluttered open.

_Hey, sweetie,_ Jim smiled, shivering with the aftermath of the night air as he cuddled into him.

_Jim,_ Spock murmured, drawing him into a warm embrace, and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. _How was your shift?_

_Freezing,_ Jim admitted, humming with pleasure as Spock sucked gently on his lower lip. _Much as I’m enjoying this, I kind of want to say something._

Spock parted them with a final flick of his tongue, waiting silently for him to speak.

‘I just wanted to thank you for doing what you did this morning,’ Jim whispered, petting at his chest with a trembling hand. ‘You shouldn’t have had to. It was my responsibility.’

Spock shook his head, bringing a hand up to cradle his cheek, and stroking his thumb gently over the raised scar tissue across the bone.

‘No, ashayam. It was not your responsibility, and I did what I did because I knew how difficult it would be for you.’

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Jim turned his head in Spock’s hold to press a firm kiss into the centre of his palm, then brought his hand down to tangle their fingers together.

‘I _saw_ her,’ he choked, sniffling pitifully in an attempt to keep his tears unshed. ‘When I had my phaser up, she was there, like a ghost.’

With his free arm, Spock tugged him closer, kissing him gently once more.

‘I am sorry that you had to witness such a thing. However, it does not surprise me. The trauma you have experienced is more than enough justification for your hallucination. There is no shame in it.’

Jim nodded, blinking the wetness away from his eyes.

‘I’ll talk to Bones tomorrow, if I get a chance. He’ll be worse off than me, and he doesn’t have you to make him feel better.’

‘I am glad to be of service,’ Spock murmured, shifting so that Jim’s head rested on the swell of his chest.

Ever the limpet, Jim pushed one of his legs between Spock’s as he made himself comfortable, feeling a hell of a lot better than he had that morning. The bond rippled with contentment, as Jim settled beside the man who was more of a home than any place in which he’d ever found himself.

_I love you,_ he sighed, chest aching with brimming emotion.

_Taluhk nash-veh k’dular,_ Spock replied tenderly, his hand threading into Jim’s hair. _Sleep now, k’diwa. We have a long journey ahead of us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It was pretty brutal - hence the title, adapted from a quote from the Book Thief - but necessary, I think. Please leave a comment if you liked it, because they're such a fantastic motivator! I'm so grateful for every one. Also, if you'd like to take a look at my tumblr, I'm right [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> P.S. I know I've mentioned how busy I am before, but my life has just taken on another time-consuming facet - I'm currently training for a voluntary position, in addition to my full-time job. While it's very important to me, I have one day off in two weeks because of the training, so if that does affect my next update, please don't worry. It's coming. And we'll see how the actual volunteering will affect my writing time :)


	23. Come Back Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried valiantly to get this chapter done, and I succeeded *passes out*

It has been a difficult week for Spock and his family. With the early bout of meningitis having weakened his immune system, Theo is uniquely susceptible to illness, and the scarlet fever that he originally contracted triggered a bout of pneumonia. For any parent, this would have been a frightening occurrence, but for Jim and Spock, who have almost lost him once before, I imagine that it was particularly terrifying. Theo is alive, of course, thanks mostly to the speedy reaction of his parents, and the unparalleled expertise of Doctor McCoy. Having devoted the last few days to watching over him, it is only now that Spock feels able to return for an interview, his communicator grasped tightly in his hand throughout.

How is Theo, Spock?

_[A little bleary-eyed, despite how valiantly he attempts to hide his fatigue, Spock straightens in his chair.]_

STS: He is stable, and healing. I would not be here otherwise.

You dropped everything to look after Theo. Was that logical?

STS: It is always logical to care for one’s family.

And what of the crew?

STS: They are fully aware of our situation, and with the ship docked, they are not in immediate need of command. In the event of an emergency, we are always within communication range. I see no issue with us tending to our son.

_[I know I’m baiting, but I can’t help it.]_

Do you think a full Vulcan would have done the same?

_[He barely twitches, expression stone-cold and unmoving. I feel my face begin to heat.]_

STS: I am not prone to idle speculation. Despite my mixed heritage, I was raised as fully-Vulcan, and as such, logic guides my behaviour. It is logical to protect my mate and my children; therefore, I neither see conflict between my heritage and my actions, nor appreciate the implication that there is.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.

STS: _[dispassionately]_ You did not.

Well, good. Before Theo fell ill, Jim was telling me about the first leg of your journey, and I’ve since heard that a child died early on.

_[Spock stiffens, his shoulders squaring.]_

STS: Yes.

He died because his father wasn’t watching him.

STS: I do not wish to assign culpability to either parent. A moment of inattention would have been excusable on pre-Plague Terra, and yet it cost them their son. Their grief was genuine, and as Jim once told me: ‘they blame themselves enough without us doing it too’.

Yeah, I understand.

_[Spock’s chin raises by a degree, lips thinning.]_

STS: Doctor McCoy might have a different opinion, considering his personal circumstances. That is his prerogative.

Of course. I imagine that it must have come as a shock to the group.

STS: _[quietly]_ Somewhat. Unfortunately, however, it was not the first time that one of our own was killed. Nor would it be the last.

* * *

While neither boredom nor complacency were habitually experienced by his people, Spock considered Jim’s suggestion that so-called ‘cabin fever’ was setting in amongst the group quite valid. Fourteen weeks and three days after they had left the perilous Academy campus, the mood around the convoy was decidedly strained, arguments breaking out amongst cadets and civilians alike with little provocation. If pressed, Spock himself might have admitted to a little restlessness, discomforted by the lack of privacy available to his family. It had been far too long since he and Jim had last made love, their intimacy limited by circumstance, and while he understood that the entirety of the group was similarly suffering, that understanding made little difference to his frustration.

Despite the disadvantages of their surroundings, the children still brought joy to Spock, and he watched them grow with a type of pride he had never thought he would be fortuitous enough to possess. Liora, while remaining shy and cautious, was beginning to interact more extensively within their small familial group, her intelligence and morality becoming clearer by the day. Spock and Jim had been teaching her how to read, and it was evident that at even this young age, her abilities greatly outstripped those of her peers. She continued to have sleeping problems, however, coupled with the occasional inability to retain control of her bladder, which was a source of distress for both the child, and her parents. Spock hoped that his and Jim’s love for her would be enough to eventually negate the effects that her early trauma had had on her, but that remained to be seen. Theodore, who knew nothing but their family and the dangerous world in which they lived, had long since begun to crawl, and was beginning to pull himself upright when support was in reach. Although proud, Spock watched him obsessively, the death of Archie still very much at the forefront of his mind. He would not allow such an end to come to his own children.

That afternoon, after the convoy had stopped in order to allow its passengers a little respite, the bus upon which the majority of the group travelled had inconveniently broken down. As they had come to a halt in a quiet area, the situation was not as urgent as it might have been, but everyone was eager to move on, Spock included. Jim had attempted to help the engineers, but even with his knowledge of the inner workings of vehicles, he had decided to ‘leave it in the hands of the experts’ when his interference had succeeded in rekindling an argument between Mister Scott and Keenser that apparently involved the throwing of spanners. Spock, although displeased with their lack of restraint, was not surprised.

The advantage of Jim being free from those particular responsibilities was that he could remain with Spock and the children. While Scott and his subordinates attempted to repair the bus, the four of them had obtained a rare moment of peace in the back bedroom of the RV, Liora playing quietly with a jigsaw as Jim and Spock lay on their bed, Theodore sitting between them and chewing on a teething ring. Jim’s head was resting on Spock’s shoulder, and he lay at an angle in order to provide a barrier between Liora and the edge of the bed, both of them ready to reach forward should either child venture too far.

‘They’re so cute,’ Jim grinned, patting Liora’s socked foot, a touch which she barely acknowledged, given her absorption in her puzzle.

At Jim’s comment, Theodore abandoned the teething ring in order to give them a mostly toothless smile, flinging the saliva-covered plastic in Spock’s direction. He toppled forward onto hands and knees and crawled up the bed when Jim beckoned to him, squealing in delight as Spock intercepted him halfway and placed him atop his chest.

‘Dadada,’ Theodore babbled, patting clumsily at Spock’s face.

_‘Sa-mekh,’_ Liora piped up, as Spock suffered beneath Theodore’s enduring obsession with his nose. ‘Not daddy.’

To Jim’s tangible amusement, she leant forwards and prodded her brother in the side.

‘Sa-mekh.’

‘Meh!’ Theodore squealed, poking his finger in Spock’s nostril.

Wincing in discomfort, and ignoring Jim’s increasingly loud laughter, Spock gently detached Theodore’s hand from his nose, placing the teething ring just out of reach on his left shoulder. Theodore stretched for it, and when that proved unsuccessful, he crawled over Spock, knees digging into his ribcage as he grasped it with a burble of triumph. Task accomplished, the baby sat upright, gravity tipping him sideways so that Spock had to catch him to prevent him hitting the mattress too hard.

‘You have poor balance, my son,’ he pointed out, settling him down carefully.

Theodore, oblivious, shook his teething ring in Spock’s direction before shoving it back into his mouth.

_Don’t think he cares much,_ Jim snorted, pressing a soft, consolatory kiss to his cheek.

_I believe that you may be correct._

‘You all right there, baby?’ Jim asked Liora, who had shifted further away from them with her puzzle. ‘You’re a little close to the edge there.’

He reached down to her and pulled her up to sit by her brother, lifting the jigsaw as best he could to place in front of her.

‘Where does this piece go sweetie?’

She took the piece from him, face scrunched up in concentration, and Spock watched with a swell of pride as she fitted it into place, looking up at them for approval.

Spock’s response was mostly drowned out by Jim’s gushing praise, but he still made sure to allow the corner of his lips to twitch upwards when Liora looked at him, justifying the display as a requirement for her emotional security.

_I love it when you smile,_ Jim admitted, nosing at his jawline. _It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful._

Spock flushed, turning his head into Jim’s touch and stealing a kiss.

_You are far more so, t’hy’la._

_Oh, I don’t know about that._

Spock was about to argue his point when he heard approaching footsteps, and a moment later, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

‘Come in,’ Jim called, regrettably separating them by a few inches.

The door opened to reveal Mister Scott with Nyota in tow, the latter holding her arms out for Liora when she scrambled off the bed.

‘Well, hello there,’ she smiled, lifting Liora with an exaggerated grunt of exertion. ‘Oof, you’re getting a big girl now.’

‘Noooooo.’

‘No? All right, then.’

‘Not that we’re not pleased to see you,’ Jim began, taking a jar of puréed food from the bedside cabinet, ‘but do you need us for something?’

Mister Scott nodded, sporting a smear of grease from temple to jaw.

‘I just came to tell you somethin’. You want the good news or the bad news first?’

Jim shrugged, glancing at Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

‘The bad news, I guess.’

‘Well, the bad news is that-’ Scott stopped speaking, shaking his head. ‘No, that’s not gonna work. It’s gonna hafta be the good news first. We figured out what’s wrong with the engine.’

‘Great! And the bad news?’

Scott winced, taking out the pencil Liora was straining for from his belt and handing it to her.

‘It’s gonna take another hour or two, and by that time, it’ll be dark.’

‘So, we’re going to have to stay the night,’ Jim murmured, lifting Theodore onto his lap. ‘If that’s what we’ve got to do, then fine. It seems to be a pretty quiet area. Honey, don’t chew on Mister Scott’s pencil, please.’

Liora obeyed, although reluctantly, considering her pout.

‘If you’re hungry, you can have dinner with your brother. Thanks, Scotty. Do you want me to make an announcement?’

‘Admiral Pike said he’s happy to do that,’ Nyota replied, placing his squirming daughter back on the floor.

‘Awesome. Are you guys staying, or..?’

‘No, I’m going to finish the job with the rest of them,’ Scotty said enthusiastically, taking his saliva-covered pencil between two fingers and wiping it on his trousers. ‘I mean, Levette is good, but she’s not quite as good as me.’

‘That is why you are the Chief Engineer,’ Spock deadpanned, earning a grin.

‘And I’ve got to go and teach the kids some Andorian,’ Nyota sighed. ‘It’d be nice to have a proper classroom.’

‘You’ll get one once we’re on the Enterprise,’ Jim promised, passing Theodore over to Spock as he stood, taking Liora’s hand. ‘I think we’ll get the little ones fed now. Thanks for the status update, guys.’

‘No problem,’ Scott replied, leading Nyota from the room. ‘See you later.’

‘Yeah, bye, boys.’

‘Bye,’ Jim called after them, gently pushing at Liora’s back to move her forwards. _Hungry, t’hy’la?_

_Yes. Although I believe that it will be easier to feed the children first._

_Yeah, me too,_ Jim agreed, now leading Liora rather than guiding her. ‘Come on, sweetie, what are you – a little girl or a snail?’

‘Snay!’

‘Oh no, we don’t you sharing Uncle Bones’ identity issues.’

Jim handed Spock the jar of baby food as they walked through to the main section of the RV, brushing their fingers together as he did so, which sent a shiver of pleasure running up Spock’s spine. Beginning to grizzle, Theodore reached for the jar, which Spock slipped into his pocket.

‘You will be fed soon, kan-bu,’ he promised, stroking the back of Theodore’s little hand as it fisted in his shirt.

Spock’s words didn’t do much to pacify him, and as they came through to where the other occupants of the RV were already sitting, he began to cry, face crumpling. Spock shushed and rocked him, but he didn’t truly quieten until he was eating, evidently enjoying the mashed-up pasta and vegetables judging by the mess covering his face.

‘God, he’s got Jim’s eating habits already,’ Admiral Pike drawled, oblivious to his mistake.

Leonard winced, as did Spock’s mother, yet although Spock attempted to soothe away the spike of pain the Admiral’s words had caused, Jim didn’t seem outwardly upset.

_I’m okay, honey,_ he said softly, gaze dipping to their twining hands beneath the table. There was a pause as he wiped a blob of mashed potato from Liora’s dress. _He doesn’t realise._

_That does not negate the effect his words have had on you,_ Spock pointed out, as Pike shifted in the awkward silence, eyeing Jim curiously.

_I know,_ Jim eventually replied, the bond filled with the hurt his face wasn’t showing. ‘I’d rather he be chubby and healthy than skinny and ill.’

‘Of course you would. I’m sorry if I offended you.’

Jim shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

‘You didn’t,’ he mumbled, bringing a small forkful of pasta to his mouth. ‘Don’t worry.’

Spock watched him with concern, squeezing his hand gently as he slowly made his way through his dinner. Conversation continued around them, if a little awkwardly.

_T’hy’la, please do not let careless words affect your enjoyment of your meal. I will gladly procure you something else if pasta is not to your liking._

_No, no, I like pasta,_ Jim insisted, as Spock attempted to scrape a little food off Theodore’s chin with the spoon. _Do I eat weird?_

Jim’s question was so hesitant, so self-doubting, that Spock’s chest squeezed.

_Not at all, t’hy’la,_ he said tenderly. _It was a poor attempt at a joke; you should read nothing into it._

Jim didn’t seem convinced, which Spock intended to work on. As it was, he was distracted from his task by Lewinsky, who was watching him feed Theodore rather curiously.

‘Can I ask a question? Vulcans don’t eat meat, right?’

‘Correct,’ Spock replied, wiping Theodore’s face with a cloth before continuing with his risotto.

‘Well, what about the kids?’ Lewinsky asked, a little nervously, as he placed his fork down. ‘Are they vegetarians too?’

‘No, and the reason for that is twofold.’ Spock removed Theodore’s bib, noticing his eyelids droop with a warm burst of affection. ‘Firstly, Doctor McCoy has informed us that a diverse, balanced diet including meat is best for both children while they are young, particularly Theodore, who is already immunocompromised. Secondly, I would never attempt to impose my own dietary habits on my children without allowing them a choice.’

_Unlike my own father,_ he didn’t say, meeting his mother’s troubled smile with a short not of his own. Although Spock truly and independently wished not to eat meat, he could not say that the alternative had ever been an option in his childhood home.

‘We don’t mind if they want to be veggies or not,’ Jim added, resting a hand on his chin as he stabbed at his penne.

‘No veggies,’ Liora muttered, then clumsily pushed a forkful of broccoli into her mouth.

Spock opened his mouth in preparation to alleviate her apparent confusion, but after a sharp glance from Jim, decided against it.

‘Does Mister Scott expect that the repairs will be finished soon?’ Amanda asked, nodding pointedly toward the waning light outside. ‘It might be spring, but it still gets dark all at once, and I wouldn’t like anyone to be out there at night.’

‘Scotty said they’d be done in an hour or two, so hopefully the light will last. In the meantime…’

Jim stood, his stretching revealing a strip of skin at his waist which drew Spock’s eye – and sent a warm jolt of arousal through him – immediately.

‘I think we need to be getting these two to bed.’

‘Yes, it’s probably about time, isn’t it?’ Amanda breezed, collecting together their plates and handing them off to Leonard, who put them in the dishwasher.

As Jim took Theodore from his highchair, Spock followed suit with Liora, her fatigued body lying limp in his arms.

‘Are you tired, little one?’ he asked, knowing full well the truth.

‘Nuh.’

Sighing in defeat, and ignoring Jim’s snort of laughter, Spock manoeuvred his way through what Jim called the ‘living room’, only to be approached by Doctor McCoy.

‘You guys need any help?’ he inquired, a tentative hope in his expression.

Spock was prepared to answer in the negative, but before he could, Jim overrode him, turning in the doorway with the baby clasped to his chest.

‘I’m sure Liora would like a story from her Uncle Bones.’

Leonard beamed, the brightness of his smile slightly jarring to Spock, who had rarely seen such a joyous expression on his face.

‘Just let us get her bathed and dressed for bed first, then you can jump in,’ Jim continued, taking a bottle of milk out of stasis on the way to the bedroom. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘Sure.’

Curious as to his offer, Spock sent a query through the bond as they entered the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them.

_He misses it, Spock,_ Jim said quietly, handing Theodore over as Liora wriggled her way out of Spock’s arms. _Being a parent, I mean._

_And you believe that helping with the children will be therapeutic for him?_

Jim nodded, opening the bathroom door and beginning to fill the infant bath using the shower. Laying Theodore on the bed, Spock began to undo the fastenings of his clothing, disentangling little limbs from the soft fabric.

_Yeah, I do. Or at least, I hope so._

‘Baff, sa-mekh!’ Liora squealed, clumsily stripping herself of her clothing. ‘I like baffs!’

‘Patience, daughter,’ Spock said patiently, catching her around the waist and sitting her on his lap. ‘The water may still be too hot. What does water that is too hot do, Liora?’

‘Burn!’ she shrieked, sounding rather too enthusiastic about it for Spock’s liking.

‘That is correct. And I do not wish for you to be burned.’

Jim, with rolled-up sleeves which made his arms look rather attractive, dipped his elbow into the bathwater.

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ he muttered, apparently to himself, then leant sideways so that he was visible through the doorway. ‘Honey, it’s ready.’

Liora had removed herself from Spock’s lap before Jim had even finished his sentence, skittering off towards her other father and the aforementioned bath. Jim caught her before she could slip on the tile, hoisting her into the water.

‘There, now. Calm down.’

_It’s weird that she likes bathing so much now. She never used to._

_As my mother would say, perhaps we should ‘count our blessings’._

Jim smiled softly, massaging shampoo into Liora’s hair.

_Yeah, I guess we should._

Liora wriggled happily in the bath as Spock carried Theodore through the door, bringing their changing mat with him. Sleepy blue eyes blinked open as he laid Theodore upon the mat, and he felt a rush of affection as the baby focused upon him, chubby legs kicking and a squeal of laughter escaping him as Spock tickled his stomach.

‘Why Theo no baff?’

‘He is tired, so I am cleaning him by other means,’ Spock explained, carefully running a soft washcloth over his skin.

‘Oh, _right,_ ’ Liora sighed, her tone so matter-of-fact that it made Jim explode with laughter, and Theodore mimic him a few seconds later.

Spock, meanwhile, sat amongst his illogical, emotional human family, and allowed his lips to twitch the faintest amount, struck by the depth of joy he experienced whilst in their company.

_Yeah, we love you too, t’hy’la,_ Jim smiled, eyes teary with the force of his laughter. _All of us._

Once the children had been bathed and dressed, Jim allowed Leonard into the room to read to Liora, their friend seeming to brighten in the presence of the children. Jim had fed their son some milk, and now he was soothing Theodore to sleep in his arms, a fierce, sweet love flowing from his side of the bond to Spock’s.

Used to having at least one child in his arms at this hour, Spock stood slightly awkwardly beside Jim and Theodore, his position near the window contributing to the clarity of the sizzling phaser fire he heard in the distance.

‘Jim,’ he said immediately, but it seemed that his bondmate had already been alerted by his sudden alarm, judging by the speed at which his head snapped up. ‘I hear phaser fire.’

Before Jim could reply, his radio began to emit static, and a broken-up whisper came crackling from the receiver.

_‘Sir? Oh God, please.’_

At the sound of the desperate plea, Leonard stopped reading, and Spock froze, concern for the children overriding all else. Dragging the radio from his belt, Jim lifted it to his lips.

‘Jackson, what’s wrong?’ he asked quietly, his scapulae drawing together as his muscles contracted with tension.

_‘People, sir,’_ Jackson panted, terror in the pitch of his reply. _‘There are people with weapons converging on the convoy. One of them shot me… my phaser’s gone. I’m incapacitated, I ca-_ aaah!’

There was a strange crunching noise before Jim’s radio went dead, Jackson unreachable through it. Nobody spoke for a few seconds, a stillness upon them all. Then, Jim picked up his radio once more, his voice clipped and strong.

‘All Security personnel: there are potentially hostile intruders in the vicinity. I need all of you armed and ready; phasers on stun for now.’

_Spock, you with me?_

_Of course._

‘You want me to come with you?’ Leonard asked, as Jim clipped his radio back onto his belt.

‘No. If you could stay with the kids, I’d be grateful.’

Spock ran his finger along Theodore’s arm as Jim handed him over to Leonard, attempting a reassuring expression for Liora’s sake.

‘We will not be gone long, slor-veh,’ he said gently, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. ‘You should go to sleep.’

She whined a little, evidently fearful, but neither Spock nor Jim had the time to adequately reassure her.

‘Go to sleep, baby,’ Jim cooed, stroking her hair, before leading Spock from the bedroom.

In the hallway, they almost collided with Spock’s mother - whom Spock bade stay with Leonard and the children – and Admiral Pike, who informed them of the phaser beams he had seen to the east.

‘Thanks, Chris,’ Jim, moving towards Cadet Lewinsky, who was already waiting by the exit to the RV.

‘No problem,’ Pike replied, his own phaser in his hand. ‘I’m just pissed I can’t go out there with you. I’ll shoot from the window if I have to, though. Not letting anyone get to the kids.’

‘Yeah, us neither,’ Jim breathed, the sentiment echoed by Spock even if it remained unspoken. ‘We’re going to go out there. If-’

Whatever might have been said was interrupted by a series of shouts, and a high, rattling scream which sent a sharp pain through Spock’s eardrum, a clear sign that the time for speech was over.

‘Lewinsky, with us!’ Jim ordered, pushing forward through the door before Spock had the time to protest. With the rushing of his blood growing ever more audible, he followed his Captain outside to where a bloody fight was taking place. Although many of the Engineering and Security cadets were in possession of phasers, it seemed that the element of surprise had been disadvantageous for them, considering the number of wounded and potential fatalities that lay in the soil. Both he and Jim zeroed in on the invaders immediately; a group of raggedly-clothed men and women with bladed and blunt weapons, savagely attacking those who defended themselves and their families. Spock felt Jim’s blistering anger as the devastation was revealed, Nyota lying amongst the wounded, blood oozing sluggishly from a wound in her head.

_Let’s get the bastards,_ Jim hissed, phaser raised and shooting as they ran into the fray.

Spock’s enduring thought was to protect his family, and protect them he did, shadowing Jim obsessively and quickly dispatching of anyone who dared near the RV. With a clenched jaw and cold fury, Jim did the same, joining the remaining cadets in stunning the attackers until they stood, short of breath, amongst the unconscious and the dead. In the waning light, Spock saw Jim swipe his tongue across his lower lip, bloody from where he had bitten into it, and fought the urge to sweep him away to examine his injuries.

‘Anyone with anything more than basic first aid knowledge needs to use it,’ Jim called, crouching down beside Nyota. ‘I want ten guards outside for now; the rest of you can go back in. Thank you for your help.’

_Get Bones, will you? I’ll get M’Benga, and Christine._

‘Leonard, we are in need of your assistance,’ Spock said urgently, lifting his radio to his lips as Jim examined the wound in Nyota’s head. ‘Are the children well?’

There was a pause, during which Spock’s heart stuttered, but then Leonard emerged from the RV with his medical kit, eyes trained on Nyota. He approached at speed, dropping to his knees beside her unconscious body.

‘The kids are fine. Alfie?’

‘You mean Lewinsky?’ Jim asked absently, holding Nyota’s head still as Leonard passed a tricorder over her wound. ‘Yeah, he’s okay, far as I know. He’s over by the bus with Patel.’

Leonard looked up from his patient for a moment, eyes searching, and Spock noticed the subtle relaxation of his muscles as they fell upon Cadet Lewinsky, who, although limping a little, seemed relatively unharmed. As Leonard studied his tricorder, Nyota stirred, her eyelids fluttering and an incoherent groan escaping her lips as she shifted.

‘Nyota,’ Spock said clearly, attempting to focus her attention. ‘Nyota, can you hear me?’

‘Y-yeah, I’m…’ She trailed off, opening her eyes fully. ‘My head’s killing me.’

Jim sat back on his heels, the relief that Spock would not outwardly express shown in his easy smile.

‘It would do. We think one of them must have smacked you round the head.’

‘Seems like you’re goin’ to be just fine, though,’ Leonard declared, moving his tricorder away from the wound. ‘Doesn’t need stitches, but I can regen the skin if you want.’

‘Maybe later, once everyone else has been dealt with.’

She struggled to support her own weight as she raised herself on her elbows, so Spock and Jim hoisted her into a sitting position. The blood was drying messily at her hairline, but she seemed well enough now that she had woken.

‘You’re probably going to have a concussion, but I’ll get you a cold compress sorted, and I’m sure Scotty will be willing to watch you.’

Nyota flushed, which Jim apparently found amusing, but before she could reply, Doctor M’Benga called over to them.

‘Leonard, I need your help if you’ve got a second.’

‘Sure!’ Leonard replied, grabbing his medical kit and standing. ‘Have some water, and don’t fall asleep, all right?’

He didn’t wait for a response before getting up to leave, squeezing Jim’s shoulder on the way, which made Spock twitch. M’Benga was knelt by a young man who lay unnaturally still in the grass, his arm at an odd angle, and blood staining his shirt over his stomach.

_Awful, isn’t it?_ Jim asked rhetorically, jaw tight and anguish palpable. He hated to lose those under his command. _I’ve counted three of our own dead so far._

_It could have been much worse without the warning from Cadet Jackson._

_God, I forgot about him,_ Jim said, horrified. He stood, taking his phaser in hand. ‘I’m going to try and find Jackson. I’ll come back.’

‘All right,’ Nyota replied, prodding gingerly at her wound, but Jim looked to him.

_Be wary, my love,_ Spock said softly, inclining his head. _Do not go too far. The children and I wish to see you safe._

_I’ll be careful,_ Jim promised, wandering off into the distance.

Spock watched him for as long as his vision would allow him, before turning back to Nyota. She smiled indulgently at him, a far cry from her original reaction to his relationship with Jim, then winced as she poked at her wound.

‘What do you think Jim is going to do with them?’ she asked, nodding towards the group of stunned individuals that had been dragged away from the convoy.

‘It will be a collaborative decision with the Admiral, and perhaps myself, but I cannot see any alternative to simply leaving them here.’

Nyota frowned, pushing herself up further on her hands.

‘They’ve killed at least three people, Spock, and they’ve hurt more of us. How can we just leave them here without doing anything?’

‘There is no longer a functioning criminal justice system,’ Spock reminded her, watching Leonard approach Cadet Lewinsky, and begin to examine his leg. ‘Jim will not kill them in cold blood, nor do I believe you would support that. The only other option would be to bring them with us as prisoners, but that is neither a safe nor humane solution, and could result in further fatalities.’

Nyota nodded sharply, her mouth thin.

‘Yeah, I see what you mean, but I can’t see everyone being happy about it.’

‘Then we will deal with their reactions as they come,’ Spock said evenly, starting at the sudden shock of Jim’s misery through the bond.

_Jackson is dead. They… they decapitated him._

Spock closed his eyes, hearing Mister Scott approach with a shout of concern.

_I am sorry, t’hy’la. Do you need assistance?_

_No, I… I’m going to wait to bury him. Until everyone’s gone inside. I’ll come back for now._

‘Nyota, are you all right?’ Scott panted, dropping to his knees beside her. ‘I didn’t know you’d been caught up in it.’

He took her face gently between his hands and studied the gash in her forehead with a distraught expression.

‘I’m fine, Monty. Honestly.’

‘Why tha hell would they attack you?’ he growled, Scottish burr all too clear in his anger. ‘You hadnae done anythin’ wrong.’

‘No, she hadn’t.’

Jim’s cold voice rang through the air, and others looked up at him as he approached the group once more.

‘I’ve just had a discussion with Admiral Pike, and he agrees with me; we bury our fallen, we keep them stunned, and we leave them with their dead strewn around them. If the infected arrive before they wake – well, that’s unfortunate for them.’

He looked to Spock, who came to stand before him in a show of support, beautiful eyes even brighter than usual with a sheen of tears.

_You have made the right decision, Jim. It is no less than they deserve._

_But it won’t bring our people back,_ Jim said dejectedly, brushing his fingers against Spock’s before turning his attention to Mister Scott. ‘Scotty, you guys got the engine working again, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, Cap’n.’

‘Great. Once we’ve done what we need to do, we’re getting out of here.’ Jim stared at the pile of unconscious attackers, justifiable anger adding venom to his tone. ‘I don’t want us to stay any longer than we absolutely have to.’

Thus, two hours later, Spock found himself back in their temporary bedroom, the rumble of the RV engine beneath him a strangely soothing sound. Jim was curled up on his right shoulder, barely awake, but trying valiantly to keep his eyes open, while the children were asleep at last. Both had been frightened and distressed upon their return, despite Amanda’s attempts to sooth them, and although Liora had required relatively little persuasion to return to bed, Theodore had been inconsolable for much longer. He lay on Spock’s left, little body cradled protectively in the crook of his arm, cheeks still ruddy and tear-stained.

‘He’s asleep, isn’t he?’ Jim whispered, reaching over Spock to gently rub at Theodore’s back. ‘Poor baby. He was so upset.’

‘Understandably so,’ Spock replied, gathering Theodore into his arms and sitting upright.

Jim backed off for a moment until he had righted himself, but then leant over his shoulder to look down at their son, affection curling gold in the bondspace.

‘He’s so beautiful,’ Jim murmured, stroking Theodore’s chubby arm with a finger. ‘Sometimes it scares me how much I love the kids. I mean, look at what happened today, Spock. What if we’d been outside with them when those bastards arrived?’

‘We were not, t’hy’la,’ Spock reminded him gently. ‘And if we had been, we would have protected them. I would die for our children, as would you, and I know others who would also. They are safe.’

The jumble of Jim’s troubled thoughts did not cease, but Spock felt him relax a little nonetheless, the tension that had been present in him since Jackson’s radio transmission dissipating.

‘Yeah. Yeah, they’re all right,’ Jim breathed, speaking on a sigh. He straightened Theodore’s clothing with a practiced hand. ‘Are you going to put him to bed?’

Spock nodded, turning his head to kiss Jim’s cheek as he stood with the baby in his arms, walking over to the crib and laying Theodore down in it. He lingered for a moment, bringing the blanket up over him, and brushing a Vulcan kiss over his cheek. Jim was undressing for bed behind him, a sight which he did not wish to miss, but he took the time to tuck their daughter in, smoothing her bright hair back. He could see the passage of time in her, and it was bittersweet. He did not wish the children to grow up in a world such as this, but he was grateful that they had the opportunity to grow at all.

‘Baby, you coming to bed? Or do you need to meditate again?’

By the time Spock had backed away from the children, Jim had stripped down to his underwear, his musculature as impressive as ever in the lowlight. Spock felt a throb of arousal, but brutally suppressed it, knowing that it would not be appropriate to act on his desires in close proximity to the children.

‘Sleep will be sufficient,’ he said quietly, removing his outer layers of clothing and slipping into bed beside Jim. ‘I wish to be close to you tonight.’

Before Jim switched off the light, Spock saw the flash of his sweet smile, their lips meeting clumsily in the dark.

‘I love you,’ Jim sighed, pressing several deep, lingering kisses against his willing mouth. ‘Love you so much.’

‘Yes, k’diwa, I love you very much also.’

He felt Jim’s cock stir against his thigh, a reaction he very much wished to take advantage of, but they could not. Settling against his chest with one leg between his, and an arm thrown over his waist, Jim sighed in frustration.

‘I can’t wait until we’re on the Enterprise… for more reasons than one.’

‘It will certainly be an improvement on our situation,’ Spock murmured, lifting Jim with little effort in order to make them both comfortable. ‘In the meantime, we should get as much rest as possible.’

He felt Jim smile against his chest, and tightened his grip around his waist.

‘You telling me to go to sleep?’

‘Yes, Jim.’

‘Mmm, night, sweetheart.’

Spock pressed a kiss into his soft hair, allowing the severity of their situation to escape him for a few seconds as they curled together, limbs entwined.

_Goodnight, ashayam._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I do like to keep to my schedule, and that dedication has paid off this fortnight! Really hope you guys enjoyed the chapter - please let me know in the comments if you did - and my tumblr is [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to take a look! Have a lovely weekend, everyone :)


	24. The Minor Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I just about managed to get this chapter up, and now I'm off to bed, because I have work tomorrow *cries* Hope you all enjoy! :)

Stardate 2261.87. 1335 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

I’m aware that I’m deviating from my habitual interview schedule by speaking to Jim again, but considering the point we’re at in the narrative, I really wanted to hear his point of view. Luckily, despite the constant negotiations clearly taking a toll, he still accepted my invitation, albeit reluctantly. Perhaps his good mood is because of Spock and the children – as it so often is – or perhaps it is due to the fact that his brother is in the final stages of quarantine, their long separation nearly at its end. Either way, when he enters the interview room with Theo perched on his hip, he wears a bright, wide smile. I’m determined not to let his good mood go to waste. He lays Theo against him when he takes his seat, the little boy quite clearly fast asleep, tousled hair falling forwards over his face like a curtain.

He’s often asleep when you bring him here.

_[Jim nods, smiling fondly as Theo murmurs in his sleep.]_

JK: Yeah, I try and tire him out before we come here. He doesn’t quite understand yet when he should settle down, so it’s better if he’s sleeping.

_[He combs his fingers through Theo’s hair, smoothing it back.]_

JK: Liora’s quieter, but she wanted to go for ice cream with Amanda today, and she doesn’t often ask for treats. We were happy to indulge her today.

And where’s Spock?

JK: Dealing with the brass, as per usual. He has infinite patience; I don’t know how he does it. None of them understand what we’ve been through on Terra, and that’s made pretty obvious by all the crap they talk. _[His voice rises a little, then falls again as he looks down at Theo.]_ Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We won’t be here forever.

What do you mean?

_[Jim shakes his head dismissively, clearing his throat.]_

Fine. I asked for you today because I wanted to hear your version of the final leg of your journey to Iowa. You must have been relieved when you passed the state borders?

JK: Oh, yeah. After god knows how many months cooped up in the convoy, everyone was getting a little fractious. Some were questioning if the journey was even worth it, what with the quality of life and the fatalities we’d had along the way. Even I had my doubts at times.

What about?

JK: About whether it was the safest option for the kids. _[Jim pats Theo’s leg absently.]_ The travelling just seemed to be endless, and even though we knew we had to leave the Academy, I occasionally wondered whether we would have been better seeking shelter elsewhere in San Fran.

But you didn’t know anywhere in San Francisco that was safe.

JK: I know. But those were the kind of irrational thoughts that popped up every so often, whenever we had a setback, or it was a particularly stressful day. Spock was good at making me see clearly again, though. He said it would all be worth it in the end, when we were on the ship, and we didn’t have to watch our backs every second of every day. And he was right.

When you got to the Enterprise, was it pretty straight forward?

_[Jim snorts, the sound entirely humourless.]_

JK: Nope, but then nothing was easy in a world like that. There were a lot of people working on getting the Enterprise ready, Kaitlyn. None of them were _on_ the ship, because interior prep had given way to exterior prep, but there were still a heck of a lot of people – engineers, etcetera. The crew – _my_ crew – was exhausted, and inexperienced, and pretty damn cranky, but we had one last obstacle to overcome.

* * *

Nyota had been slowly making her way through a chocolate chip muffin for the last five minutes, which was approximately the same amount of time for which Jim had been staring at it.

 _Jim,_ Spock sighed, exasperation clear in his voice. _Staring at the food will not allow you to taste it. And I doubt Nyota will tolerate your attention for long._

 _I don’t know what you’re talking about,_ Jim sniffed, eyes sliding from his bondmate across to that wonderfully chocolatey treat once more. He was James Tiberius Kirk, veteran of countless battles with the infected; she wouldn’t notice him.

Picking off one of the chocolate chips, Nyota sighed heavily, then looked directly at him.

‘Kirk,’ she barked, making him jump. ‘Stop staring.’

Jim pouted, attempting to look as pitiful as possible.

‘But that muffin looks so good.’

‘Yeah, it is. And you’re not having any.’

‘Just a little bit?’ Jim pleaded, glancing to the side to make sure Liora was napping before turning up the whine in his voice a notch. ‘Pretty please?’

Nyota rolled her eyes, but pulled a little piece off and gave it to him, which he happily stuffed straight into his mouth.

‘Thank you,’ he said thickly, catching Bones’ narrowed eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘What? It was only a tiny bit.’

‘It’s a slippery slope, Jim.’

‘Sugar in moderation isn’t a bad thing, Leonard,’ Amanda defended, turning the page of her fantasy novel.

Bones harrumphed, but he said nothing further, his respect for Amanda preventing him from arguing. With an impish smile, Jim turned back to Spock, who raised an eyebrow, the only outward expression of the flash of amusement in the bond.

It was strange, but pleasant, having Nyota in the RV, Chris having taken her place in the van in order to talk to Scotty. The constraints of travelling in the convoy were such that she didn’t spend as much time with them as she had before, and Jim missed her, even though he knew she was only really a few metres away. Now, as he looked over to her, her feigned disgruntlement had disappeared, and her lips twitched, a sure sign that she wasn’t too annoyed by him. Jim was glad.

They’d entered Iowa about two weeks ago, having circumvented Des Moines, and coming down past Iowa City. They were on the final stretch of the journey now, something that relieved all of them, but as the afternoon wore on, Jim knew that they would have to stop for the night. Luckily, Riverside and its surrounding areas were in the middle of nowhere – a blessing which his teenage self had considered a curse.

‘Daddy, soo,’ Liora said sadly, pulling him from his thoughts. She pointed at her untied shoelaces. ‘Help, pease.’

‘Of course, honey.’

He reached down to tie them, talking through what he was doing as he did so. On his other side, Spock was entertaining Theo, who seemed to be getting hungry, judging by the increasingly grumpy noises he was making.

‘This is an elephant, Theodore,’ Spock said quietly, holding Theo’s stuffed toy in front of him. ‘Otherwise known as _Loxodonta Africana,_ or _Elephas Maximus,_ depending on their place of origin.’

Jim couldn’t help but grin at his serious explanation, their son evidently more interested in the texture of the toy than a science lecture.

 _Sweetie, I don’t think he’s ready for a biology lesson yet,_ he laughed, looking forward to relief from his back ache as the RV pulled onto the side of the road.

 _Perhaps,_ Spock replied stiffly, but then concern began to leak through their connection. _You are in pain._

_It’s just a little backache. I’ll be fine once I stand up and move around._

_I will be the judge of that,_ Spock muttered, his attention turning back to their son as he began to grizzle. ‘We are stopping for the night, pi-veh. You will have freedom then.’

 _‘Limited_ freedom,’ Jim corrected, handing Theo his teething ring. ‘We’re really going to have to keep an eye out now that he’s started cruising.’

‘You know we’ll all help,’ Amanda smiled, replacing her bookmark as the RV came to a full stop.

‘Oh, thank God,’ Jim groaned, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing to relieve the persistent ache. When it had become somewhat bearable, he let Liora out of her car seat, only for her to run immediately towards the front seats where Bones and Alfie were sitting.

‘Careful, baby,’ he called, just as Bones reached over the back of the seat to lift her over.

‘It’s okay, Jim, I got her.’

A warm hand rubbed circles into his lower back, just where the pain was emanating from, and Jim sighed in pleasure, arching into it.

‘Ooh, that’s nice,’ he murmured, reaching back to press his hand over Spock’s and direct it. ‘Just… there. Yeah.’

‘Could do without the show, kid,’ Bones drawled, Liora standing on the seat beside him. ‘Your back hurtin’?’

‘Not enough for a hypo.’

He turned back towards Spock as Bones spluttered, his back feeling considerably better. Theo was in Spock’s arms, wriggling and kicking in excitement, his movement having dislodged one of his socks.

‘Theo, stop trying to take your clothes off,’ Jim laughed, pulling it back up. ‘You’re like daddy when he’s drunk.’

‘You unclothe yourself when intoxicated?’ Spock asked, desire and disapproval warring within the bond.

‘No?’ Jim attempted, flushing beneath his disbelieving gaze. ‘Well, sometimes?’

_There are many respects in which I wish our son to take after you, t’hy’la, but that is not one of them._

‘Dadadadada,’ Theo babbled, reaching for Jim, who kissed the back of his little hand.

‘Yeah, cutie, daddy and Sa-mekh,’ he smiled, letting Theo grip his finger. _I can think of a few more ways I’d want him to differ from me. You on the other hand…_

_Neither of us are perfect. But you are a most pleasing and accomplished individual, and I would be proud if Theodore were to be like you._

With a lump in his throat, Jim reached out to brush their fingers together, Spock’s soft eyes meeting his with understanding.

‘God, it’s like watching a terrible chick flick,’ Bones said disgustedly, the RV now empty apart from them and Lewinsky, Uhura and Amanda having gone elsewhere. ‘Why must you subject me to this?’

‘Why must you always be watching, you voyeur?’

‘Can’t help it if you’re doin’ it right in front of me.’

Jim had half a mind to torture him by playing with Spock’s hands, but, a) the kids were there, and b) he couldn’t imagine Spock being too pleased about it. To placate himself, he looked pointedly at Alfie, who was being distracted by Liora, then back at Bones. Bones flushed an angry red, but stopped teasing, which Jim considered a success.

‘’Kay, I’m gonna go check on everyone,’ he told Spock, leaning forward to kiss him gently, half out of love, half out of the compulsion to irritate Bones. When he pulled away, he chucked Theo’s cheek and looked over to the front seat to make sure Liora was absorbed in her game with Alfie. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

There were dozens of people milling around the convoy, but Jim wasn’t too concerned, considering the number of trained cadets outside, and the fact that the landscape was flat. He saw Scotty and Nyota talking to Chris over by the van, Chris sporting crutches to support him while Scotty was working on refining his prosthetic. It would be a difficult task for anyone in an environment like this, but Jim was sure that Scotty would manage it. He’d been called a miracle worker more than once. Catching Nyota’s eye, he began to make his way over, but on the way, he caught the middle of a whispered conversation that made fury boil within him.

‘I mean, did you _see_ the expression on his face when he killed that kid? There was nothing, _nothing,_ I tell you. Do we really want someone like that as our Commander? And what are those kids going to turn out like? It’s fucked up, man; what’ll happen if-’

The conversation stopped quite abruptly. Jim wasn’t sure what his expression had become, but given the white-hot rage he felt and the way the cadets’ faces paled, he would guess that it was pretty hostile.

‘Excuse me?’ he said coldly. ‘Would you like to repeat that?’

McCarthy, the cadet who had been speaking, began to stutter. His companion, Mendes, stared mutely at the ground.

‘See, the thing is,’ Jim continued, voice tight with anger, ‘Commander Spock was one of the driving forces behind our decision to leave the Academy. Without his expertise, I doubt we would have even got off campus. Can I tell you both something?’

Both nodded, barely-concealed fear in their faces.

‘When Archie turned, I had my phaser poised to put him down. I considered it my responsibility as Captain. I’ve had to put a child down before, Cadets. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. It’s been almost a year now, and I still feel it. Now, Spock, knowing all about it, decided to spare me from experiencing that pain again. As to why his expression was blank – I’m sure you’ve noticed the pointy ears and bowl cut. Vulcans don’t outwardly show much emotion, but that doesn’t mean they don’t feel it at all. There is no place for xenophobia here. Spock is not only my bondmate, and a _fantastic_ father to our children – he is your commanding officer, and if you have a legitimate concerns about his behaviour, you come to me. I will listen. Until then, I don’t want to be hearing crap like that. Dismissed.’

Red-faced, the two of them scuttled away, and Jim didn’t care to see where they went. Some of his anger had dissipated during his speech, but a little of it still thrummed in the background, and Spock’s concern for him didn’t go unnoticed.

_I’ll tell you later, sweetheart. I promise. It’s nothing urgent._

_Very well._

Taking a deep breath, Jim looked back over at Uhura, who was watching him with obvious concern. Plastering an overcompensating grin on his face, he continued making his way over to her, pushing the cadets out of his mind for the moment.

When the sky began to darken, the sun descending towards the horizon, those that remained outside were ushered in. After Jim’s guard stint, the children had been put to bed, and with the door left wide open, Jim and Spock sat in what passed as a living room with the others. Chris was addressing the group through his radio, his voice quiet and soothing, lulling Jim into a stupor as he listened.

‘… and tomorrow when we reach the shipyard, we need to be prepared for whatever we find. That being said, we’re coming to the end of a very long, arduous journey, and I for one am very excited at the prospect of safety, and comfort. Rest well tonight; hopefully the next time we address you will be when the Enterprise is within sight. Goodnight, everyone.’

Jim was drowsily leaning on Spock’s shoulder, feet pushed up against Bones’ thigh, and when Chris turned off the radio, he couldn’t repress a jaw-cracking yawn any longer.

 _Perhaps it is time for bed, k’diwa,_ Spock suggested softly, leaning his cheek against Jim’s head.

_Mmm, I think you might be right._

Sitting up straight, he forced his tired body into action, stumbling a little as he stood.

‘We’re going to bed,’ he announced, casting a weary smile at their family as Spock followed his lead. ‘Wake us if you need anything, yeah?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Chris replied, shifting his weight easily. ‘Night, boys.’

‘Night, everyone.’

There was a chorus of replies behind him, but Jim didn’t draw it out, slipping his hand into Spock’s as they left for the bedroom.

_You are weary, t’hy’la. I should have intervened earlier._

Jim shook his head, checking that the children were still fast asleep.

 _I probably still wouldn’t have gone to bed,_ he murmured, lifting Liora back into the centre of the bed as Spock tucked Theo in. _I’m stubborn, you know._

Spock shot him an amused look as they seamlessly swapped places, each used to saying goodnight to both children. Jim studied the sleep-softened face of their son with a swell of love, touching two fingers to his cheek before leaving him to rest.

_I am well aware._

Tugging his shirt over his head, Jim turned away from the crib and pulled Spock into his arms, shuddering as a slow-burning arousal began to seep through the bond.

 _Yeah, but you love it,_ he purred, breath hitching as the hard ridge of Spock’s erection pressed into his hip. _God, when we get on that ship, I’m gonna bang you like a screen door in a hurricane._

 _Interesting imagery, t’hy’la,_ Spock quipped, leaning down to kiss him slow and deep.

Wrapping his arms around Spock’s neck, Jim returned the kiss enthusiastically, hopeful that they soon wouldn’t have to rely on stolen moments to be intimate. With more than a little frustration, he swiped his tongue against Spock’s lower lip, pressing a few gentle, consolatory kisses to his soft mouth before withdrawing with a sigh.

_I can’t wait._

_Nor can I,_ Spock murmured, stroking two fingers against Jim’s lips. _For more reasons than one._

Jim stripped down to his boxers with no self-consciousness whatsoever, settling himself on the bed and watching appreciatively as Spock did the same. He wasn’t sure if it was because they hadn’t had chance to make love in a while, but Spock looked particularly gorgeous tonight, his lean muscles and flat, taut stomach making Jim’s belly fizz.

 _Soon, ashayam,_ Spock soothed, slipping on a pair of black silk pyjamas and crawling into bed beside him. He traced Jim’s jawline with his fingertips as he settled on his side, eyes soft and warm. _You were going to tell me about what occurred this afternoon._

Jim had been drifting, pleasantly sleepy, but Spock’s reminder sent a bolt of anger shooting through him, no less potent than it had been that morning.

 _Two cadets were being derogatory towards you,_ he said tightly, leaning into Spock’s cradling arm. _They said some pretty nasty shit, Spock. I confronted them about it, and I’m hoping it made an impact._

Spock was silent for a moment, gaze unreadable, but then he reached for Jim’s face.

_Show me?_

Despite his reluctance to burden Spock with what the cadets had said, Jim nodded, letting him pull forth the memory and watch it. It was no less painful, no less infuriating than the first time, and when he felt the thrum of hurt from Spock, quickly concealed, his cold anger intensified.

 _It is of no consequence,_ Spock said softly, once they had emerged from the meld. _I care not about what they think of me._

_But they shouldn’t be thinking of you that way – that’s the point!_

Spock’s eyes dipped, his lower lip finding its way between his teeth as a flash of that repressed hurt came to the forefront again.

_Prejudices can be well-ingrained, taluhk-veh, particularly in traumatic situations such as ours._

Jim leant forward and gently kissed him, comforting him with the added bonus of preventing him from biting his lip.

_Well then, I’ll **un** -ingrain it. I mean it Spock; nobody gets away with that shit here._

As Spock pulled away, he looked up at Jim with gentle eyes, not arguing with him, but not agreeing with him either. Jim decided to drop it – actions spoke louder than words, and he’d prove it to Spock eventually. Snuggling closer, he moulded his hand possessively around his hip, a grin slowly making its way across his face.

_What do you think of Alfie and Bones?_

Spock’s amusement was much less observable, his eyebrow climbing high instead of a smile forming, but it was there nonetheless.

_I believe that both are experiencing romantic feelings for one another._

_Big time,_ Jim agreed, stroking his thumb over the sharpness of Spock’s hipbone. _I’ve tried to talk to Bones about it, but he’s not having it._

 _Why do you think that he is denying it?_ Spock asked, bemusement clear.

_Because he’s scared._

That perfect eyebrow arched even higher, threatening to rise above his hairline.

 _He’s scared of getting too invested,_ Jim explained, trailing his fingers up Spock’s side. _His marriage ended pretty badly, Spock. However good a mom Jocelyn might have been, she allowed her own bitterness to affect the way she argued for custody, and Bones lost Joanna almost completely. He fell in love once before, and look at where that got him. Plus, I’m pretty sure… I’m pretty sure what happened to Jo-Jo still affects him every day. I know it does me._

Jim swallowed, cuddling into Spock as he began to rub gentle circles into his back.

_He doesn’t want to lose anyone else he loves._

_Denying his feelings will not purge them,_ Spock said softly. _I am the living proof of that._

His chest squeezing, Jim leant in to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

_I’m glad you didn’t deny your feelings for me, sweetheart. And I wish Bones wouldn’t either. He deserves happiness as much as we do._

_He does. Perhaps he will feel more able to express how he feels once we are on the Enterprise._

The very name of her made his heart flip, a longing unlike any other that had long since settled in his bones beginning to awaken.

 _All the more reason to get our asses into gear tomorrow,_ he smiled, watching Spock’s eyebrow raise once more at his word choice. _You’re on watch in the morning, huh?_

_Yes, t’hy’la. It will be early, so I will try my best not to wake you or the children._

_I don’t mind so much,_ Jim murmured, flicking off the lights. He wriggled around until he was comfortable, lying half across Spock with his head on his chest, feeling long fingers begin to play with his hair. _I’ve got high hopes for tomorrow._

Spock pressed his lips to the crown of his head, free hand wrapping possessively around his waist.

_As have I, ashayam. There is nothing I wish for more than the assured safety of you and the children._

_And you, sweetheart,_ Jim breathed, so tired that his eyelids felt like lead. _We’ll all be safe._

Spock said something out loud, so quietly that Jim’s sleep addled brain couldn’t make it out, but he would have bet on it being ‘I love you’. He whispered a garbled reply before succumbing to the warmth surrounding him, eyes closing and sleep taking him blessedly quickly.

When he woke, it was not to Spock rising for his guard shift, nor to sunlight streaming through the curtains, but to Liora’s face looming over his, her smile wide and bright.

‘Daddy!’ she squealed, and Jim put a finger to his lips, moving his free arm around her to give her a cuddle.

‘Good morning, little miss,’ he smiled, voice gravelly with sleep.

As she burrowed playfully into him, he kissed her cheek, leaving the prospect of sleep behind with faint regret.

‘Gotta gettup, daddy,’ she insisted, sounding rather sleepy herself. ‘Sa-mekh says.’

Jim frowned in confusion, but he was interrupted before he could ask –

‘I am here, Jim.’

Rolling onto his side, Jim found Spock beside the bed, already dressed and feeding Theo a bottle.

‘You been out yet?’ he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘What time is it?’

‘It is 0604, and yes, I have,’ Spock quietly replied, handing Theo over to him. ‘The sun has risen; I believe it is time for you to do so too.’

‘Up, daddy,’ Liora agreed, knees pressing uncomfortably into his thighs as he sat up with Theo, the baby grinning gummily at him.

‘Well, at least you’re all in agreement,’ Jim grumbled, sitting Theo in his lap so that he faced his sister.

As Liora giggled, Spock’s warm eyes landed first on her, then on Jim’s face, his head tilting in beckoning.

‘Come, t’hy’la. The Enterprise awaits.’

Well, if that wasn’t motivation for him to get his ass out of bed, Jim didn’t know what was.

The day had dawned bright and clear, the sunlight unfiltered by cloud, and Jim squinted into the distance as he settled into the driver’s seat of the RV, pulling down the shade to save his eyes. The convoy was in high spirits now that the end seemed so near, the arguments of the past months temporarily forgotten as the group prepared for an end to too-close quarters, guard rotations, and above all, the persistent threat of danger. Even the children had picked up on the good mood surrounding them, and even if they didn’t understand why everyone was smiling, they were playing copycat anyway. Both were seated in the back today, caution still in the back of Jim’s mind despite the high hopes he had.

‘Now, according to this, the shipyard should be down the road a piece.’

Bones announced his presence by thwacking the map down in front of him on the dashboard, leaning on the back of his seat.

‘I was not aware that ‘a piece’ was an accurate measurement of distance, Doctor,’ Spock cut in, appearing on Jim’s other side. ‘Kilometres or miles will suffice.’

‘Go on then, smartass,’ Bones grumbled, stabbing a finger at the dot on the map. ‘Tell us how far away it is.’

‘Approximately forty six kilometres, if one takes into account potential obstacles and human error,’ Spock said smoothly, the end of his sentence coinciding beautifully with the reddening of Bones’ face.

‘Not far then,’ Jim said hastily, attempting to distract them before it became all-out war. ‘And the quicker you two sit down, the quicker we can get going.’

‘Cheeky brat,’ Bones muttered, but he obeyed nonetheless, going to sit – surprise, surprise – by Alfie, who greeted him with a shy smile.

_God, those two are in deep._

_It seems so,_ Spock agreed, taking his place beside Jim. _The convoy is on standby. The group is ready to leave when you are._

Jim nodded, feeling excitement well up in him as he turned the key in the ignition, and he briefly dropped his hand from the wheel to give Spock a discreet Vulcan kiss.

 _No time like the present,_ he said eagerly, pulling out from the side of the road, flicking the indicator on out of habit.

He watched in the wing mirror as each vehicle followed behind, the dusty, deserted road stretching endlessly ahead of them, just as it had when he was a boy. The world might have changed, but Iowa seemed static, the cornfields, the battered old fences, the early morning sunshine, all the same as five, ten, twenty years before. Their route had seemed vaguely familiar for a while now, but it wasn’t until Spock told him to make a right that his memory truly stirred. He recognised this road. His stomach, already twisted with excitement and nerves, gave a lurch as they passed the ravine he had driven his dad’s car into, Frank’s violent threats still ringing in his ears. As he shivered, he felt Spock’s gaze fall upon him, confusion and concern washing over his surge of pain in the bondspace.

_K’diwa, what has upset you?_

_It’s nothing,_ Jim denied, though he did lean into Spock’s hand as it fell upon his leg. _Just old shit._

_You are entitled to feel pain about your past, Jim. You have previously told me so yourself._

Jim nodded, although hesitantly.

_I’d much rather focus on the future, though. We’re so close, Spock!_

_Seventeen point six five kilometres, to be exact,_ Spock replied dryly, a flicker of amusement passing through the bond.

Jim didn’t need the map now; he knew these roads so well he could have driven blindfolded, the twists and turns recalled through muscle memory as much as from his mind. He shifted impatiently in his seat as he sped up slightly, eager to see his lady once more.

‘Sa-mekh?’ he heard Liora call, her voice high and sweet. ‘Sa-mekh, sip?’

‘Yes, slor-veh,’ Spock replied, twisting in his seat. ‘We will see the ship soon.’

It was strange going back to where it had all started. He’d been a different person then – a boy, not a man, drinking and fighting his demons away. If he hadn’t have seen the Enterprise, if Chris hadn’t come and found him, then he might never have found Spock, or the kids, or Bones. Hell, he might not even have survived this plague. That ship had saved him in more than one way, and it could very well save him again.

As they neared the shipyard, Jim felt his heart began to pound in anticipation, the hope and fear welling in him almost nauseating in its intensity. In the far distance, he could see the sunlight glinting off something, and with a jolt of excitement, he sat up straight, straining his eyes to see. Spock, however, seemed much less enthusiastic. They were sitting so close together that Jim felt, rather than saw, him stiffen, a sense of foreboding so acute coming from Spock’s side of the bond that he felt his pulse begin to rise.

‘Jim, slow down,’ he said urgently – so urgently, in fact, that Jim neither hesitated, nor questioned him.

As he slowed the RV to a crawl, there was silence in the back, but whether it was due to everyone having heard Spock’s warning, or the fact that he had braked so quickly, Jim didn’t know. Even the children were quiet, as if sensing the mood.

‘What is it, Spock?’ Jim asked, loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Spock’s disquiet only increased as they approached the shipyard, the ship becoming more visible by the minute.

‘I am not yet certain, but I believe that there may be figures within the shipyard.’

‘Are you sure?’ Chris cut in.

As the RV rolled closer and closer, Jim followed Spock’s gaze to find a teeming mass of bodies wandering around the shipyard, some breaking away from the group to snarl at them through the chain-link fence. Jim felt like he’d been punched.

‘Yeah,’ he said hoarsely, his heart sinking as he stopped the RV. ‘There’s… there are Ferals in there.’

Liora let out a long, low whine, her evident fear making Jim’s stomach clench. He and Spock both turned, offering their own attempts at comfort.

‘Pi-veh, you will be all right-‘

‘Don’t worry, baby-’

They exchanged a look, a mix of pain, fear, and determination shared between them.

‘You’re safe in here,’ Jim continued, sparing a glance at the writhing, mindless infected behind the fence before turning back to his child.

He wasn’t sure if he was lying or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNNNN. I'm sure at least some of you knew this was coming, so you can consider yourselves vindicated, if not entirely happy. There's one final obstacle (for now) to overcome. I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - please let me know in the comments if you did - and you can always check me out at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to see more trek!
> 
> Have a great weekend, lovelies! :D


	25. The Major Lift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! There's warnings for gore, and mentions of miscarriage is this chapter, if anyone is affected by that.

Stardate 2261.87. 1335 hours. KL interviewing AG.

Of all the veterans of the Terran plague, Amanda Grayson has always been the most welcoming. I often wonder whether her seemingly limitless patience is anything to do with her time on Vulcan, which for many years has been a rather unwelcoming place for anything but pure-blooded natives. Recently, however, there seems to have been a shift in popular Vulcan attitudes; not a reversal of the insular xenophobia which has plagued the planet since a time before First Contact, but perhaps a positive realignment with Surakian principles, and that most fundamental of universal values: ‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations’.

Have you heard about the latest in Vulcan foreign policy, Amanda?

_[She beams, tucking behind her ear a strand of hair that is dislodged as she nods.]_

AG: Yes, I have. Although I can’t speak to my husband in person yet, the closer we get, the more we can communicate- _[She pauses mid-sentence, smiling bashfully.]_ Via alternative means.

And what do you think of it?

AG: It’s fantastic, of course! In all my time on Vulcan, I have very rarely seen foreign policy reform, but to agree to take in Terrans who wish to relocate off-planet is a particularly huge step for the High Council. Vulcan has reached out, and I could not be prouder of those whom I have lived amongst for thirty years.

Do you think many people will take them up on the offer?

_[Her mouth twists briefly, her expression doubtful.]_

AG: I’m sure that some will, but there are many other planets and colonies willing to take in Terrans, especially those with a predominantly human population. And, unfortunately, Vulcan has a bit of a reputation when it comes to subtle intolerance.

So I’ve heard. On the other hand, the High Council has been relentless in pointing out the various illogical and, indeed, cruel aspects of the quarantine decision.

AG: Oh, I’m not denying that. The Vulcan Way is to preserve all life, as far as possible. That is one tenet that is rarely disobeyed. And perhaps now that there are so few of us left, there’ll be a change in the way Vulcan society views us. Maybe that’s a little idealistic, though.

Maybe. Either way, it’s a step forwards.

AG: That it is.

Anyway, great as that is, what I really wanted to ask you about was when you found the Enterprise.

_[She nods, brow knitted.]_

Apparently, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.

AG: No. _[She huffs a soft breath from her nose, the sound somewhat humourless]._ No, it wasn’t. I don’t know what I – _we_ – had been expecting, but I don’t think any of us envisioned the sheer number of them. It was- well, I suppose it was something like what Christopher had discovered when he came back to the Academy.

And at that point, how were you feeling?

_[Her shoulders rise ever so slightly as she shakes her head.]_

AG: Disappointed? Frightened? Nervous? All of the above? If the boys felt like that, though, they didn’t show it. They couldn’t afford to, not with everyone else needing to rally together in order to help get rid of the things.

So, how did you go about clearing the area?

AG: Similarly to on campus, really. Only now, we had another advantage – one which I believe prevented many people from turning tail and running away.

What was that?

AG: The convoy, of course.

* * *

The children were safe in the bedroom with Christopher. That thought was Amanda’s sole comfort as the RV came to a stop just metres away from the fence, and the twisted, decomposing faces of dozens of Ferals pressed up against it, the monstrous creatures writhing like maggots in their desperate pursuit of flesh. Amanda was on her knees on the leather seat she had previously been sat on, Spock on one side of her and Leonard on the other as she pointed her phaser with shaking fingers out of the window at the squirming mass of infected. If she turned her head far enough, she could see the semicircular line of vehicles in position outside the perimeter, drawing in Ferals like a magnet did iron, clumps of them crawling over one another with snapping jaws.

To most, Spock might have seemed entirely stoic beside her, but Amanda knew that wasn’t the case. There was an extra stiffness to his limbs, his gaze shifting periodically to Jim, then to the first of two locked doors between them and the children, his jaw set in a way that looked painful. She wanted to touch him, and despite guessing that it might not be too welcome in public, she briefly clasped his forearm, noticing his eyes soften with a fresh burst of determination. There was no instinct as strong as that which demanded you protect your children.

‘Is everyone in position?’ Jim asked, the radio held to his lips in a white-knuckled grip.

There was a fuzzy chorus of ‘yes’s, and Amanda’s heart pounded so hard that she thought it might beat clear out of her chest, her ribcage suddenly feeling rather fragile. Her free hand trembled as Jim depressed the button once more, so she curled it around the fabric of her jumper in an attempt to mask her fear.

‘Ready,’ Jim said quietly, his own phaser rising to the window. ‘Aim…’

Amanda tore her gaze away, and focused on her target, thankful that at least these faces were unknown to her.

_‘Fire.’_

With breath that shivered its way up her throat, and the _rat-a-tat-tat_ of a drummer boy heart, Amanda squeezed the trigger, the brilliant bolt of light that her phaser produced meeting an array of many others as the group followed Jim’s command. The infected were dropping under the assault, the fence melting in places beneath the heat of the lasers, and although the glare was blinding, Amanda could see far enough that her aim was as good as her shaking hand would allow it to be. The weight upon her chest lifted slightly as she watched them fall like dominoes, and when Jim called a halt to the assault, her eyes readjusting to the natural light, the area behind the fence was piled high with bodies. Alfie laughed in relief, the sound shaky and disbelieving, but neither Spock’s nor Jim’s expressions changed.

‘That can’t be it,’ Jim murmured, turning to look at Spock.

Their gaze was held for such a long time that Amanda knew they were communicating using the bond, the thought sending a pang of misery through her as she recalled a similar closeness between herself and Sarek. She could still feel him, faintly, and as his trace of concern filtered through to her, she gathered her strength to send him reassurance back, comforted by the knowledge that he was still there in some form. She wasn’t alone, and in many ways, she was lucky.

Finally, after a minute or so of silence, Spock spoke.

‘If we remain outside the gates, we may be here for longer than anticipated.’

‘You think we should go in on foot?’ Leonard asked incredulously, a familiar frown creasing the well-used lines of his forehead. ‘We’ve got the RV for a reason.’

‘Yeah, but what if we happened to get overrun in there? What if they smashed their way in through the windows and killed the kids? We can’t drive it inside because I don’t want us to get trapped in there, and we can’t just sit here and wait because we could be here for years. Who knows, there might not even be any more in there?’

Jim’s persuasiveness was admirable, but Leonard still frowned, his pocketed phaser coming out again.

‘Picking the most dangerous option again – great,’ he muttered, turning to Alfie.

‘I’ll just have to go and okay it with Chris,’ Jim said, ignoring him. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

His fingers grazed Spock’s as he left, and Amanda watched her son’s gaze trail after him with a rush of affection. It brought her so much joy to know that her boy was so in love, that he had allowed himself to give into his emotions when the society he had been brought up in would consider it the Vulcan equivalent of a sin. Despite the many mistakes she and Sarek had made during his childhood, they had wanted more little ones, and not just to provide company for Spock. Amanda had always dreamed of having a full house, but, alas, it wasn’t to be.

Many times, she had been devastated by yet another negative pregnancy test, and yet, the times that it had been positive had led to something even more agonising. Six times, she had held a baby inside of her, and five times, she had lost them. Miscarriage had been an agony like no other. To hear a heartbeat one day and silence the next; to feel her own heart freeze when she had woken in a pool of blood; to endure the pain of childbirth to be rewarded with a cold, lifeless, _perfect_ baby… there were no words. She had spent many a night sobbing in Sarek’s arms, their desperate pain soothed only by Spock’s existence, their lovely little boy who had taken twelve years to grow into his ears, who had defied the expectations of Vulcan xenophobes by overtaking all those in his peer group. They both loved him fiercely, and Amanda wasn’t about to let him get hurt.

Vaguely, she heard Jim address everybody on the radio again, and when he clipped it into his belt, she approached him and Spock with welling determination.

‘I want to come with you.’

Spock’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring in what seemed to be alarm.

‘Mother?’ he said quickly, drawing himself upright. ‘You are untrained. Please, I must strongly protest your decision.’

As Jim looked on, gaze flicking warily between the two of them, she reached out and adjusted Spock’s collar.

‘Honey, I’ve done my fair share of defence recently. I want to help.’

She could tell that he was upset even if he didn’t show it, his lips thinning and shoulders squaring. In an attempt at comfort, she slid her hand down his arm and squeezed his wrist lightly.

‘It’ll be okay, Spock,’ she soothed, looking to Jim.

‘If you really want to come, I won’t stop you,’ he told her, shrugging. He and Spock exchanged a glance, Jim’s eyes softening when they met Spock’s. ‘But, Amanda, be cautious. For the kids’ sake as much as ours.’

She nodded soberly, lifting her phaser once more.

‘I’ll do my absolute best. I’m not trying to martyr myself.’

‘See that you do not,’ Spock said tightly, still clearly unhappy. ‘Jim, when are we leaving?’

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Giotto’s voice crackling through his radio receiver.

_‘Everybody is in position, Captain. We’re ready to disembark on your command.’_

‘Thank you, Lieutenant,’ Jim replied, raising his eyebrows as he herded her towards the door. ‘Let’s go.’

Amanda felt a thrill of nerves as she left the RV, Jim and Spock in front of her, Alfie close behind. She gave Leonard a gentle smile as she left, his worried expression seeming a permanent fixture that morning, and stepped out into the balmy air with her weapon held tightly against her. The group - a mixture of Security, talented marksmen and concerned civilians - congregated outside the RV, facing Jim and Spock, and the fence. Amanda could see the piles of bodies close up now, flies beginning to swarm around them, and the stench of decomposing flesh was almost overwhelming. Fighting the urge to put her hand over her mouth, she turned her attention to Jim.

‘All right everybody,’ he began, his straight-backed posture as commanding as his voice, ‘we all know what we’re here to do. I suggest we split the group in two; one group goes left, the other right, and we meet in the middle. I want us to sweep the place completely. If the children are going to be outside for even a minute, they need safe passage to the ship. If anyone has any issues, you contact me immediately using your radio. All right?’

There was a general murmur of assent, and Jim smiled tightly, drawing his phaser.

‘I’m going to lead one group, and Lieutenant Giotto will be leading the other.’ He put his hand out, vertically flat. ‘This half can come with me, everyone else, with Giotto. Once we’re done, we’re going to bring the convoy in and sweep the ship just in case. Now, there’s an access gate round the corner if I remember rightly – everyone be vigilant.’

As everyone began to make their way towards the gate behind Jim and Giotto, Spock reached out for Amanda, drawing her closer to him.

‘Please do not take any risks,’ he said quietly. ‘Jim has a tendency to do so, and I do not wish to lose either of you.’

‘I won’t, darling, I promise,’ Amanda replied, keeping level with him. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’

Spock didn’t seem convinced. His customary response of ‘fine has variable definitions’ – something which had become almost a joke to them – was strangely lacking, and as they reached the access gate unhindered, she saw his fingers tighten around his phaser until his knuckles went white.

Jim, his expression grim, but lacking weakness, came to a halt before the gate.

‘Be as careful as you can, everyone. We’re so close.’

With a meaningful look cast towards Spock and Amanda, he used his phaser to melt the padlock before him, then, when it had dropped to the floor, he kicked the gate open. Amanda was tense from the minute she stepped through into the enclosure, but nothing came running at them as she had expected. Apart from their slow, tentative advancement, there was an eerie stillness about the place, broken only by the odd twitch that was suppressed by phaser fire. At Jim’s silent gesture, the two groups arced off in different directions, parting like the tributaries of a river. Whether by nature or by design, Amanda found herself practically surrounded, and she stared suspiciously at Spock’s back as she walked, noticing how closely she was shadowed by Alfie on her left side.

The shipyard was huge, the Enterprise herself looming large in the distance, with temporary buildings and shuttle bays surrounding her – all potential sources of danger. The ship was stunning, silver and shining and obviously brand new, but Amanda knew that her admiration was far eclipsed by the affection that her son and Jim had for their saviour. Despite the perilous situation she had put herself in, she couldn’t help but feel excitement fizzle in her belly as she looked up at their prospective refuge, the vastness of her comforting already.

‘It’s looking good,’ Alfie whispered, a smile spreading across his face.

She could hear the barely-contained excitement in his voice, and squeezed his arm with her free hand, returning his smile.

‘Yes, so far. I’ll be glad to get you back to Leonard in one piece.’

Alfie stuttered incomprehensibly, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

‘Don’t worry, sweetie,’ she grinned, letting go of his arm. The group had spread out a little, so she allowed the volume of her voice to rise. ‘I won’t tell anybody.’

‘Thanks,’ he sighed, a flash of sadness in his expression, ‘but I’m not sure it would make much difference if you did.’

‘Oh, honey,’ she said sympathetically, ready to talk through it with him, but she was interrupted by a panicked shout.

‘Zane, don’t touch that!’

Amanda turned just in time to see the elastic tied around the handle of a storage container snap, the metallic screech of the door falling open drowned out by the scream of a young man, which turned into a wet gargle as his throat was torn out.

‘Fire at will!’ Jim called, he and Spock already making use of their phasers as Ferals spilled from the storage container, teeth snapping and hand curled into claws.

Her own hands trembling, Amanda raised her phaser and pointed it through the gap between Jim and Spock at one of the slowly-advancing infected, its jaw hanging half off. Trying not to gag, she squeezed the trigger and was relieved when the laser hit its mark, and she moved onto the next without hesitation, just as Spock had taught her to do. By the time the last Feral fell, she was shaking terribly, ashamed by the fear she felt.

The second group had arrived in the aftermath, their appearance just a little too late, but Amanda was grateful for the distraction nonetheless, tearing her eyes away from the still body of the cadet called Zane, his eyes wide and yet unseeing. First, she watched Jim, who looked up at the Enterprise like his saving grace, gaze almost as worshipful as that which he habitually fixed upon Spock. Then, she looked up herself, amazed by the sheer size of the ship, its shadow looming large on the dusty ground.

‘Amanda.’

Jim approached her, his expression open and friendly, Spock close behind. He laid his hands on her shoulders, understanding in his gaze.

‘You’ve done really well this morning,’ he said softly, drawing her away from the group. ‘We’re going to search the ship, and I’d like for you to take a breather in the RV while we do that.’

Amanda shook her head, allowing Jim’s hands to drop from her shoulder. Despite her fear, she didn’t want to give up while everyone else was being sent into danger.

‘Mother, please,’ Spock begged, a strain in his voice which tugged at Amanda’s heart.

‘There’s no shame in what you’re feeling, Amanda,’ Jim continued, his hand sliding round into the hollow of Spock’s lower back. ‘I’ve felt it, Spock’s felt it – we all have. You’ve done enough today, and while I’m very grateful for your help, I think it’s time you took a break. Plus, the babies will be wondering where we are. Please could you let them know that we’ll be back soon?’

He looked earnestly at her, those bright blue eyes softening her resolve. Beside him, Spock’s expression was similarly persuasive; she had never been able to say no to that face.

‘All right,’ Amanda conceded, her words escaping on a sigh. She couldn’t deny that a part of her was a little relieved to be going back, but a greater part was worried for her boys, Jim having become almost as dear to her as Spock was. ‘I’ll go back, but I want you to watch one another very closely, do you hear me?’

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Amanda nodded, her stern expression melting into a smile at the sight of their solemn faces.

‘Would you like me to go now?’ she asked airily, swapping her phaser over to her left hand.

‘Sure,’ Jim replied, nodding at someone over her left shoulder. ‘Alfie will go with you, won’t you?’

‘Of course,’ Alfie smiled, pushing his hair behind his ear. ‘Whenever you’re ready, ma’am.’

Spock allowed her to press a parental Vulcan kiss to his hand, Jim a little more openly enthusiastic as she squeezed his arm.

‘Be careful, boys.’

‘We will be,’ Jim said softly, a smile curving his lips as she turned with Alfie close behind, his proximity a comfort rather than an irritant in this environment.

The trek back to the convoy was long, but thankfully, uninterrupted. As she looked surreptitiously at him, Amanda could see the strain on Alfie in the silence, his face wan and drawn despite the possibility of safety being so close.

‘Don’t give up on Leonard, dear,’ she murmured, understanding exactly why he was so quiet.

His brow knitted a little, and as she looked at him, he turned his face away. When he spoke, she could hear the thickness of tears in his voice.

‘He doesn’t feel the same, I’m sure. I-I’ve tried talking to him, but he pretends he doesn’t know what I’m trying to say, and changes the subject.’

Amanda sighed, cold sympathy taking hold of her despite the warmth of the morning sun.

‘Darling, he looks at you like you’re his world, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Maybe he just needs time.’

Silently, Alfie nodded, his lips trembling with repressed emotion. Neither spoke again until they had reached the RV, by which point, Alfie had affixed a bright smile on his face, the only trace of his previous misery surviving in the fact that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Christopher brought the children out to her, their obvious glee taking the great majority of her attention, and by the time she had turned around to see him off once more, he was gone. Leonard, his hand clamped tight around his phaser, watched him go with distant eyes, trained on Alfie’s back until he was barely a speck in the distance.

Two hours later, the five of them were sat around the small table within plain sight of the Enterprise. The children were both eating, and while Amanda’s attention was mostly on Theo in case he choked on the tiny bites of chicken he was currently shovelling into his mouth, she couldn’t help but cast the occasional glance towards the ladder which led from an open hatch in the ship to the ground, hoping to see the boys.

‘Gamma, want my cup, pease.’

Liora strained across the table for it, the area around her mouth smothered in mashed potato, and her hands too. Amanda briefly considered wiping her off, but decided it wouldn’t be worth it until she’d finished.

‘There you go,’ she smiled, handing it over. ‘Good girl for saying please.’

‘Why?’

‘Because please is a good word to say, honey,’ Leonard told her, his smile a little strained.

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s polite,’ Christopher said patiently, tucking her napkin back into her shirt collar where it had fallen out. ‘And people like you if you’re polite.’

While Amanda was distracted, Theo lunged towards her knife on the table, thankfully falling far short of his goal.

‘No, no, baby,’ she chided, moving it further away. ‘Knives can hurt you.’

Clearly upset by his failed venture, Theo’s face crumpled and he began to wail, reaching fruitlessly for it.

‘I’ll get him.’

Leonard leant over and lifting Theo into his arms, the strain in his expression easing a little as he concentrated on the baby.

‘Hey now, darlin’, what’s all this carry on?’ he cooed, bouncing Theo gently. ‘There’re plenty of other shiny things for you to play with.’

‘Not knifes,’ Liora said firmly, pushing her bowl away.

‘That’s right, sweetie,’ Amanda praised, noting with relief how Theo’s cries seemed to be dying down. ‘Knives are dangerous.’

The wailing that had rattled their ears became a grizzling, punctuated by the odd mournful whimper as Theo clutched Leonard’s shirt in chubby fists. Leonard stroked his hair down, kissing his forehead.

‘Miss your daddies, huh? They’ll be back soon, buddy, don’t worry.’

Leonard’s radio crackled, and Amanda was immediately on edge, sitting stiffly upright.

_‘Bones, are you with everyone?’_ Jim asked breathlessly.

‘Yeah, what’s the matter?’

_‘Ship’s clear,’_ Jim announced, and Amanda sagged with relief, seeing Christopher do the same, _‘but we still need your help – Alfie’s had a fall.’_

‘What?’ Leonard snapped, an edge of fear in his voice. ‘How badly hurt is he?’

_‘It’s not life-threatening, but he’s in pain, and I think he’s broken his leg in a few places. Spock and I are going to come down for the kids, but we want you up here asap.’_

‘I’m there,’ Leonard said firmly, handing Theo over to Amanda, the baby whimpering piteously as he changed hands.

_‘Great. See you in five.’_

Amanda opened her mouth to wish Alfie well, but Leonard was already gone, clearly frantic judging by the speed at which he had departed.

‘Well then,’ Chris began, breaking the silence with a happy sigh. He lifted his radio to his lips with his free hand. ‘I’d better give the good news to everyone, hadn’t I?’

As Amanda approached the ship with the boys, each with a child in hand, she felt a thrill of excitement so intense that she couldn’t help but grin, the frightening, exhausting days of being on the road so close to being behind them. All of the other children were already on the ship, their parents waiting patiently to follow them now that the gates were closed, and with the ladder within arm's reach, Jim gestured for Amanda to climb up before him.

‘You go first,’ he offered, hitching Liora up in his arms. ‘See how amazing our lady is for yourself.’

Her hand shook as she reached for the first rung, but she pulled herself up well enough, thankful that she’d chosen to put on trousers that morning. The sun was high in the sky, but the Enterprise provided enough shade to shield her from the midday heat as she climbed, looking up towards the bright interior of the ship.

‘Are you okay with the baby like that?’ she heard Jim say, then, ‘Hold on tight, baby girl. We’re going to see the ship now.’

When she was near the top, strong hands took hold of her arms and lifted her clear into the ship, her first sight of the inside the shining silver transporter room. She stared in awe, acquiescing to the gentle herding of the cadet who had lifted her, but whereas most people were being guided towards the crew quarters, Amanda hung back.

Jim emerged first, with Spock close behind, both reclaiming the children from the cadets who held them before they could cry. Jim beamed as they approached her, his posture more relaxed than she had ever seen before.

‘Beautiful isn’t she?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, honest in her appraisal. ‘Do you want me to go and choose my quarters?’

‘You may come with us, if you would like,’ Spock offered, gently detaching Theo’s fist from his nose.

‘And where are you going?’

‘To check on Alfie in Medbay first,’ Jim breezed, clapping Patel on the shoulder as they left the transporter room. ‘After that, the Bridge. We’re going to take off.’

Amanda raised an eyebrow, following them closely through the pristine corridors.

‘Already?’

‘No time like the present,’ Jim said brightly, exchanging a grin with Liora as they entered a turbolift, descending towards Medbay.

They were immediately assaulted by a strong, clinical smell as the doors opened, the entrance to Medbay only down the corridor.

‘God, I can taste the bleach,’ Jim muttered, leading them through to where Leonard was running a regenerator over Alfie’s leg, Christine holding it in traction.

‘Shouldn’t be too long now,’ Leonard promised, his voice warm and gentle as Alfie grimaced. ‘Just hold on for me.’

‘Good to see that you’re all right,’ Jim said, announcing their presence in a way that might have startled anyone but Christine and Leonard, with their absolute stoicism.

‘Yes, thanks, Captain,’ Alfie panted, breathing a sigh of relief as Christine and Leonard moved away.

‘There, almost as good as new. I’d like you to stay here for a day or so, so I can make sure the bone has knitted properly.’

‘Fine by me,’ Alfie replied softly, and as they stared at one another, Jim coughed.

‘Right, we’ll, uh, we’ll go. We’re going to take off soon, so don’t freak out if you feel us start to move, okay?’

‘Yeah, kid,’ Leonard drawled, dismissing them with a wave. ‘Have fun in the driver’s seat.’

‘See you later, guys,’ Christine added, rather more amiably.

As they walked through the corridors to the Bridge, cadets and civilians in training alike snapped to attention on sight of Jim and Spock, their professionalism impressive given that they each had a baby in their arms, Jim swinging Liora around on demand. He was certainly in high spirits, as was Amanda, and she even noticed a flicker of a smile pass over Spock’s face – in public, no less!

They entered the Bridge to find everyone already at their rightful stations, each looking a little nervous despite the joy of the day, and unsurprisingly so, considering that most had only previously been on a few short tours on board a starship. Christopher, having affixed the prosthetic that Scotty had made for him, was sitting beside an unoccupied station. He patted the chair next to him.

‘Take a seat, Amanda.’

‘Want me to take the children?’ Amanda asked Spock, already holding her arms out.

‘It might be difficult for me to man my station during take-off with a child in my lap.’

‘Liora, do you want to go with Grandma?’ Jim questioned, handing her off to Amanda when she nodded enthusiastically. ‘Great, Theo can stay with me. I don’t need to press any buttons.’

Amanda took her place beside Christopher with her sleepy granddaughter, watching Jim take Theo from Spock’s arms.

‘Thank you Commander,’ he grinned, voice as sweet as syrup as Spock pulled back, ears faintly flushed. ‘Want me to update everyone, Admiral?’

Stretching out his prosthetic, Christopher made a ‘go ahead’ gesture, and Jim, sitting with the baby cuddled against him, took up his radio.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began, almost giddy in his address. ‘We have made it.’

Chekov cheered, and a few others clapped, which made Jim laugh sunnily, the sound bright enough to lift Amanda’s mood even higher, her heart fluttering in her chest. Liora squealed in delight, and Amanda noticed both Jim and Spock turn to look at her, the fondness clear in Jim’s face echoed in her son’s eyes.

‘That’s cause for celebration if I ever heard one,’ Jim continued, cradling Theo’s head tenderly as he settled against him, ‘but we’ve got one last thing to do. I think you all know what that is; we’ve had a long, long time to prepare. You all know your roles, you know your training rotas, but for now, we’re just going to try our best to get off the ground. There really shouldn’t be any turbulence, but maybe take a seat just in case. Won’t be long until we’re out of harm’s way. Well done, guys. Kirk out.’

Barely a second after his announcement, Jim’s radio buzzed again –

_‘Captain?’_

‘Scotty! How’re we doing?’

_‘Pretty good actually,’_ came the enthusiastic reply _‘We’re dashin’ around down here like madmen, but the engines are immaculate, the warp core is beautiful-’_

‘Are we going to get her in the air?’ Jim interrupted, and Amanda held her breath, tightening her grip on her granddaughter.

_‘Yessir, everything’s working just fine.’_

‘Awesome, thanks, Scotty,’ Jim grinned, sitting forwards in his chair. ‘See you on the flipside.’

He docked his radio in the armrest, and cradled Theo against him with both hands, the authority he exuded unhindered by the child in his arms.

‘Sulu, Chekov. Initiate take-off procedure.’

‘Yes, sir,’ they answered in tandem, hands flying across the controls in a way that belied their year out of practice.

‘Moorings retracted.’

There was a soft rumble beneath Amanda’s feet, the ship’s engines roaring to life somewhere in the depths of engineering, and she felt excitement bubble up in her, absolute safety for her family within reach.

‘Thrusters fired,’ Sulu continued, tone as steady as the ship herself. ‘Lift off.’

Their ascent was slow enough that Amanda didn’t feel like they were moving, but then the sky was growing clearer, lighter, and cloud was appearing before the viewscreen, proof of their escape from Terra. Amanda’s heart soared along with the ship.

‘We are stabilised at 35,000 feet, Keptin,’ Chekov announced, turning in his seat towards Jim. ‘Any particular course?’

‘Head north east towards Iceland,’ Jim said softly, bouncing Theo on his lap as he shuffled, restless. ‘I think the Northern Lights will be a nice reward for everyone tonight. And I want you all to listen to this…’

He lifted his radio once more, transmitting to the entire ship.

‘As you may already have realised, we’ve taken flight, which we couldn’t possibly have done without the help of our pilots and our engineers.’

Jim paused to nod at a blushing Chekov and grinning Sulu.

‘I want to thank you all for the patience you’ve shown over the last few months, and for staying so positive throughout a difficult situation. I know we’ve lost people, but all our hard work has paid off now. Your families are completely safe here; we’re all safe, for the first time in over a year. Just let that sink in.’

Jim was grinning by the time he had finished, and when Theo babbled, he babbled back at him, clearly in high spirits. Amanda nosed against Liora’s head, hiding her own smile within soft, golden hair as she looked over at her son, his besotted gaze once again on Jim and their little one.

‘Do you hear that, sweetie?’ she whispered to Liora, rocking her gently in her chair. ‘We’re safe now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you all think? :D I'm going away this weekend, so I've managed to get this chapter finished just in time, and I really hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you did - you can always catch me over at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like :) Have a great weekend, everyone!


	26. Once You Have Tasted Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely self-indulgent, and I make no apology for it. No gore, guys :)

Stardate 2261.88. 0824 hours. KL interviewing STS.

There is a particularly dangerous air around Spock this morning. When I walked into the interview room this morning, bleary-eyed, clutching my hot chocolate like a lifeline, he was already there, still as a statue. He is alone, hands clutching rigidly at the armrests of his chair, faint shadows beneath his eyes. There is something almost feral about the look in them, a spark which reminds me of what Amanda told me about Vulcan long past, and although I know that Spock wouldn’t hurt me, I’m not sure that that would be true for everybody right now.

So. You look unusually tense today. What’s got a bee in your bonnet?

_[Spock looks blankly at me, the rage that might have been reflected in a human’s face showing only in the violence of his eyes.]_

STS: Yesterday, a few _select_ members of the Council attempted to force an ultimatum upon my bondmate and I.

What kind of ultimatum?

_[His nostrils flare slightly, but he remains otherwise still.]_

STS: Essentially, they wished us to choose between custody of the children and remaining with our crew.

Oh my God. Can they do that?

STS: _[tightly]_ The argument was made that since we did not go through formal channels to adopt the children, they were not rightfully ours.

What bullshit. I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous.

STS: I quite agree, especially considering that there has been no intact Terran government through which we could possibly have applied to be their parents.

Jim can’t have been pleased.

_[I’m not sure, but there could be a hint of satisfaction in Spock’s expression as he speaks.]_

No. Particularly not when the second argument was made.

Which was?

STS: That, as a Vulcan, I am not capable of fulfilling the emotional needs of my children. _[Spock’s jaw ticks.]_ I can assure you that is not the case.

Of course not, Spock. I’ve seen you with them numerous times, and they seem very happy.

_[Spock nods distantly, his hands moving to his lap.]_

STS: Jim’s reaction was… explosive. My own was less so, purely because I am confident that my family and our supporters would be able to deal with the situation. Vulcans do not respond well to blackmail.

But don’t the Council have power in that sort of area?

STS: They certainly wield political power, but as I said, the ultimatum was made by only a few of its members. Furthermore, in the event that an attempt was made to follow through on these threats, I am certain that my clan would intervene. My father is an accomplished diplomat, and while I am not entirely sure of how he will react to the children, my mother assures me that he would not allow such an injustice to occur.

I’m sure he wouldn’t either. He must have missed you over the last few years. You and your mother both.

STS: My mother, certainly. _[He swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple slow as he does so.]_ Myself, perhaps.

* * *

If one considered the stress and turmoil of the past year, it was surprising that the new residents of the Starship Enterprise were not falling asleep at their stations. However, despite their past experiences, the crew was jubilant – and Jim alongside them. Spock himself felt new vigour that was only bolstered by Jim’s irrepressible joy, the safety of their children and self-made family at last lightening the burden which had been upon him since the beginning. Sitting at a science station again, taking atmospheric measurements, studying the movements of the infected far below, and being able to utilise his scientific knowledge in a way that benefited the crew had also been immensely satisfying. Now, however, was his time to spend with Jim and the little ones.

_God, I feel like I could just melt into the ground,_ Jim groaned, Liora sprawled across his shoulder, fast asleep. _All that stress, all that endless worrying is just completely gone._

_I know, t’hy’la,_ Spock said softly, allowing him to lead them to their newly-designated quarters. _I feel it too._

He carried Theodore in his arms, quiet, but still awake, sleepy sapphire eyes half-lidded as Spock’s movements rocked him. A swell of love rose in him as Theodore snuggled against him, still somewhat in disbelief that he was lucky enough to have two beautiful, healthy children, and, of course, his beloved Jim.

_Come on, love,_ Jim beckoned, catching hold of his free hand as they walked down the quiet corridor towards their quarters. The touch against his fingers, so sensitive from their lack of recent stimulation, made him shudder pleasantly. _Once the babies are asleep, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do._

The depth of Jim’s tone was another catalyst for Spock’s rising arousal, and as the doors to their quarters opened, he concentrated on Theodore in order to stave off his growing desire. Their room was moderately large, complete with double bed and a desk big enough for two, the untouched computer that lay upon it unfortunately obsolete. Just as Spock was about to ask where the children should be sleeping, Jim opened a door to the adjoining bathroom, beyond which was revealed a second bedroom. During their shift, someone – whose identity Spock wished to ascertain in order to thank them – had prepared the room for the children, a cot and low bed already in place, and a changing table with a baby monitor upon it adjacent to the bed.

‘This is great,’ Jim breathed, skimming his fingers along the half-filled box of toys along the back wall.

Spock was rather inclined to agree, noticing a number of apparently newly-constructed toys mixed in among the children’s meagre belongings.

‘Mister Scott’s work, I presume.’

‘Probably. I’ll have to replicate him some whisky or something. Janice too.’

‘Meh!’ Theodore whined, reaching up to grab at Spock’s nose. When he couldn’t quite reach, he whimpered in discontent, evidently tired enough for it to be affecting him.

‘Shhhh, sa-fu t’nash-veh,’ Spock whispered, watching Jim lay Liora down carefully upon the changing table. He kissed the centre of Theodore’s outstretched palm, rocking him from side to side until his eyelids began to droop. ‘Shhhh, pi-veh.’

He caught Jim watching them, a throb of affection working its way through the bond as he retrieved a pull-up from beside the changing table.

‘You’re so good with him.’

‘As are you,’ Spock said quietly, his free hand coming to rest on Jim’s hip as he began to undress their daughter. ‘With both our children.’

Liora was still deeply asleep as she was manoeuvred around, her face sweet and relaxed in repose. She wet the bed less than she had done when they had first become her parents, but it still occurred enough for her to need pull-ups at night, which Spock’s mother had told him was nothing to worry about in itself, even if the trauma which caused it was.

‘Did she go before?’ Jim asked, drawing his attention as he swapped Liora’s underwear for a pull-up.

‘Yes, when I took her to the toilet half an hour ago.’

Jim nodded, redressing her and lifting her back into his arms, her head cradled against his shoulder.

‘Well, here’s hoping.’

As Jim angled her towards him, Spock leant forwards to kiss Liora’s temple, brushing a lock of hair away from her forehead.

‘Goodnight, sweet one,’ he murmured, watching Jim lay her on the low bed, his chest squeezing.

Theodore’s eyes were closed, Spock’s movements having soothed him very close to sleep. His lips were parted, and his chubby fist closed around Spock’s shirt, and Spock wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to detach it.

‘God, he’s so cute,’ Jim whispered, kissing their son, and then Spock in quick succession, stepping back to allow him to place the baby in his cot.

‘He is,’ Spock agreed, tucking their little one in carefully, and lowering the lights.

There was a moment of unease when he and Jim came to leave the bedroom. It would be the first time in many months that he would be sleeping in a room without the children, and although he knew it to be the best option, he could not dismiss a little anxiety.

_They’ll be all right, Spock,_ Jim insisted, leaning up behind him to kiss a spot behind his ear. _We’ve got the monitor, in case they need us._

Reluctantly, Spock accepted his logic and withdrew, closing both doors between their room and the children’s in case Liora managed to wander into the bathroom and injure herself.

‘It’ll be okay,’ Jim repeated softly, lacing their fingers together as the second door closed. ‘I promise.’

_Ashaya,_ Spock sighed, the contact between their hands sending a pulse of pleasure through him.

At his address, Jim leant up to kiss him, moaning softly as their lips met, the kiss gentle and chaste at first.

_God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed this._

_I can assure you that I do, Jim._

The knowledge that they were finally alone was a heady relief, and as Jim lapped at his lower lip, Spock readily submitted to the exploration of his mouth, the slow tangle of their tongues sending electricity up his spine.

_I want you so bad,_ Jim growled, squeezing Spock’s fingers with one hand as the other reached up to thread through his hair. He tugged gently, and Spock let out a helpless moan, feeling his penis begin to harden. _You like that, honey? I’m gonna make you feel so good tonight, you’ll be thinking about my cock for weeks._

_Who is to say that I do not already?_ Spock gasped, and despite the hunger he could feel emanating from Jim, the kiss slowed once more.

_I’m not going to rush this. Going to take care of you._

With a final, loving kiss pressed to his softened lips, Jim backed him towards the bed, his arousal clearly visible in the bulge beneath his trousers. Spock’s own erection was straining against his zip, and were it under other circumstances, he might have been embarrassed. But this was Jim, his husband, his beloved with eyes so filled with love that his breath caught, and so Spock simply lay back upon the bed, arching shamelessly towards his t’hy’la.

_You’re so beautiful,_ Jim said, his voice filled with awe as he knelt between Spock’s legs, his fingers playing around the hem of Spock’s shirt. _Can I take this off?_

Nodding feverishly, Spock helped him do so, raising his arms to allow the confining fabric to be lifted away, and Jim’s hands immediately began exploring the skin that was revealed. Spock shivered at his touch, the longing that had consumed him these past months taking physical form. Apart from a few stolen moments - the rare quick release - they had not been together for the duration of the journey, and now that Jim’s hands were skimming reverently over his bare skin, Spock could hardly contain the emotion that swelled within him.

_I cherish thee,_ he whispered, jolting as Jim’s thumbs rubbed over his nipples. _K’diwa, taluhk nash-veh k’dular._

‘Yeah, sweetheart, I love you too.’

Jim tugged his own shirt off, revealing to Spock tight abdominals and pectorals, and the thick musculature of his arms that made Spock’s erection throb.

‘You are exquisite,’ he said, voice surprisingly husky, and was rewarded with a deep kiss to his mouth before Jim descended upon his neck, sucking and nibbling at it in a way which made Spock pant.

_So are you,_ Jim argued, peppering kisses across Spock’s collarbone. He took one of Spock’s nipples between finger and thumb and pinched it gently, making Spock moan. _What do you want, t’hy’la?_

‘Anything. _Everything.’_

With a wicked smile, Jim bent double and took the nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply. A groan escaped from Spock’s throat without his permission, his hands lifting to fist in Jim’s hair, holding him in place as he sucked and licked and kissed at his sensitive areola, swapping to his other side when the sensitivity had Spock keening. They rubbed against one another torturously slowly, hips rolling together as Jim’s mouth drove him steadily higher, a desperate, shaky breath escaping him as his nipple was finally released.

_Good?_ Jim asked, though there was little self-consciousness in his voice as he stroked Spock’s stomach, lightly enough to be ticklish.

‘Yes,’ Spock breathed, rocking his hips up into Jim’s clothed erection, the delicious contact making his eyes roll back. ‘Oh, t’hy’la.’

Jim rocked with him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted, his tongue emerging to moisten his lower lip as he ran his hands over the sides of Spock’s ribcage to his hips.

_‘Yeah,’_ he whispered breathily. ‘Fuck, ’shaya.’

To Spock’s dismay, and with an apparently monumental effort, Jim shifted backwards onto his knees again. Spock made an unmistakable sound of discontent, reaching for him, and Jim took hold of his hand, sucking roughly on two fingers. Whimpering at the feel of Jim’s hot tongue flicking at the skin between them, Spock’s free hand travelled shamelessly to the front of his trousers, where he squeezed himself in an attempt to alleviate the unbearable pressure.

_Thought you’d like that._

Letting Spock’s fingers slip from his mouth, Jim reached for the openings of his trousers, dislodging his hand in order to remove them along with his socks.

‘Bet I could make you come while you’re still wearing these,’ Jim said softly, moulding his hand over the bulge in Spock’s wet boxer shorts.

Spock didn’t doubt it; his long-repressed desire had reached fever pitch, and although Jim was particularly talented at bringing him to climax, even he was surprised by how close he was already.

‘I can feel it, sweetheart,’ Jim purred, massaging his swollen penis through the fabric in a way that made him leak further, his lubricant trickling down his inner thigh. _I can feel how close you are. You’re so hard, so wet._

He felt for Spock’s scrotum and gently squeezed, continuing in a slow rhythm that made pleasure curl warm in Spock’s belly.

_‘Jim!’_

‘So close,’ Jim whispered, trailing kisses down from his navel. _I can feel your balls drawn up, so tight. You want to come for me, don’t you, love?_

Spock whined as Jim took his clothed erection into his mouth, finding the head with his lips and sucking hard, hand still playing with his sac. Shamelessly rutting into Jim’s mouth, he felt his stomach begin to tighten, and with a choked cry, he spilled into his underwear, hot semen spreading across his skin. Despite the relief he felt as he climaxed, he knew that it would very soon become uncomfortable, and was therefore grateful when Jim immediately peeled his underwear off, wetting a cloth from the bathroom to wipe him down.

‘That should have taken the edge off,’ Jim smiled, cleaning him with gentle, teasing touches which did little to prevent his arousal rising again. He arched an eyebrow, skimming his thumb along Spock’s second ridge, making him shiver. ‘Then again…’

He leant down to kiss Spock sweetly, moaning into his mouth as Spock slipped a hand down the front of his trousers, fumbling with the catches. Together, they managed to divest him of his remaining clothing, and Jim ground their hips together as he licked his way into Spock’s mouth, pulling away only when they were both in desperate need of air.

‘What do you want, baby?’ he asked, voice deep, and thick with emotion. His cock had risen to curve against his stomach, flushed deep red and weeping with the proof of his desire. ‘Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.’

He stroked Spock’s half-hard cock until Spock was squirming, drawing in ragged gulps of air as he fought to regain control.

‘I want…’ Flushing with more than just arousal, he struggled for words, averting his gaze. ‘Jim, I _want.’_

_I know you do, sweetheart._

Apparently taking pity on him, Jim let go of his renewed erection, his hands drifting downwards.

‘You want me inside you?’ he whispered, rubbing the inside of his thighs gently. ‘You want me to make love to you that way?’

Spock’s breath stuttered as Jim stroked two fingers over his hole, the intimacy of this particular Vulcan kiss incredibly arousing.

_Yes. Oh yes, t’hy’la, **please.**_

He was briefly disappointed when Jim stopped touching him, pressing a kiss to one of his raised knees as he got off the bed.

_Just replicating some lube, love._

Jim seemed entirely unconcerned by his nudity, muscles defined by months of physical work making Spock’s erection leak. Taking himself in hand, Spock began loosely stroking his cock, pre-come spilling liberally from him as he tried to mimic the way Jim touched him. A soft moan escaped him as he circled his thumb over the head of his erection, and Jim’s attention immediately returned to him.

‘Starting without me?’ he grinned, snatching up the bottle of fresh lubricant and settling between his legs once more.

Before Spock could reply, Jim kissed him fiercely, coaxing his hand from his erection and lacing their fingers together, making Spock’s hips jolt.

_God, t’hy’la, It’s been so long,_ he groaned, kissing his way down the length of Spock’s body. _I could come just doing this._

Spock himself felt like he was on hair-trigger, Jim’s soft kisses and clever hands exploiting all the sensitive places he had discovered throughout their relationship, lapping up the wetness that had pooled below his dripping cock. He could feel Jim’s arousal spike as yet more fluid dribbled from the slit, and it pleased him to know that his bondmate derived such excitement from his pleasure.

_Fuck, I could definitely come doing this._

Spock whimpered as Jim’s tongue lapped at the base of his erection, grasping the bedclothes in one hand and Jim’s hair with another, urging him up to where he needed him.

‘Ashal-veh,’ he breathed, legs falling open shamelessly as Jim sucked lovebites into the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. ‘James, do not tease me.’

‘I’m not teasing you, ’shaya, I’m _enjoying_ you,’ Jim clarified, but he complied nonetheless, squeezing ample lubricant out onto his fingers and circling one around his hole. ‘Is this what you want?’

_Yes!_

Spock held his breath in anticipation, and as Jim carefully pushed the tip of his finger inside, he exhaled on a ragged sigh, pushing down to impale himself further.

_I love how eager you are,_ Jim sighed, gently moving his finger inside of him. _It gets me so hot._

Spock could feel it, along with his own overwhelming desire, and when Jim began trailing kisses up the shaft of his erection, he couldn’t repress a shaky whine.

_Love the sounds you make for me. Love how much trust you put in me, how much you let yourself go._

_I trust you unconditionally,_ Spock rasped, his mouth falling open as Jim dragged his tongue up and over his double ridges, teasing the head of his erection with swollen pink lips.

_I know you do, and it’s beautiful. **You’re** beautiful._

A groan rose from deep in Spock’s throat as Jim feathered his finger across his prostate, so overcome with yearning that he reached down in an attempt to encourage Jim to go faster.

‘Hey now,’ Jim grinned, batting his hand away. ‘No rush.’

He rubbed the slick pad of another finger against Spock’s hole, and Spock could feel his arousal at the sight, his cheeks flushing red when he realised Spock had noticed.

‘There is no shame between us, telsu,’ Spock sighed, hips twitching. ‘Another, please.’

Jim obliged him, his admiration and affection surrounding Spock as a second finger slipped alongside the first, stretching him carefully. Jim’s tongue dragged over the head of his erection once more, dipping into the slit to lap up the pre-come that had welled there, and Spock whined, cock throbbing.

‘Like that, darling?’ Jim asked softly, withdrawing for a moment, lips wet and shining. ‘I think you’ll like this even more.’

Crooking his fingers, he began rubbing gently against his prostate, taking the head of Spock’s penis into his mouth and suckling with the same unhurried rhythm. A broken moan tore from Spock’s lips as Jim played him masterfully, the tongue flicking against his frenulum making his legs shake.

‘Jim!’ he sobbed, feeling another finger slip inside of him and welcoming it eagerly, Jim’s relentless stroking and sucking sending heat coiling within. ‘Oh, _Jim!’_

_Close, baby? I’m gonna make you come, don’t worry._

Spock was far gone enough that the words alone made his cock throb, and when Jim sucked him in deep, swiping teasing fingers over his prostate, the stimulation became too much. He threw his head back and wailed as he came, cock spurting into Jim’s waiting mouth. Jim made an obscene sound of enjoyment, swallowing and sucking until Spock couldn’t bear the sensitivity anymore, and squirmed away from him.

‘T’hy’la, you spoil me,’ he said breathlessly, sleepy relief taking hold as his body went limp.

‘No more than you spoil me,’ Jim countered, his erection still very much present. Spock let his fingers trail along the straining, red-flushed shaft, relishing in Jim’s laboured breathing as he touched the spongy, wet head, the pad of his thumb pressing gently into his weeping slit. _‘Jesus,_ Spock.’

Rolling a very willing Jim onto his back, Spock rose up and replaced his hands with his mouth, looking up at Jim from beneath lowered eyelashes as he bobbed his head slowly. Jim let out a deep moan, mouth falling open in an ‘O’ as he locked eyes with Spock, the haze of arousal within them stirring Spock’s desire once more.

_‘Spock,’_ Jim groaned, hand skimming down from Spock’s head to his hip. ‘C’mere, sweetheart.’

He urged Spock to shift forward so that he could reach his hole, slipping still-slick fingers into the open channel and massaging his sensitive prostate. A shaky, high-pitched breath left Spock’s lips, the sound muffled by Jim’s penis, but there nonetheless. He pulled free with an obscene pop, leaning his head on Jim’s thigh for a moment as his cock began to rise once more.

‘Still want me inside you?’ Jim asked hoarsely, the bond betraying how close he was to orgasm. ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll last, honey, I’m sorry.’

‘Jim, you have been endlessly patient tonight,’ Spock said shakily, rubbing his cock against Jim’s thigh as he shifted, allowing his fingers to slip out of him. ‘You deserve pleasure as much as I.’

Raising his hand to Spock’s cheek, Jim stroked a thumb across his lower lip, then kissed him softly; once, twice, lingering on the third.

‘I love you so much,’ he whispered, the bond bright with his burning affection.

‘And I you, taluhk-veh.’

Jim smiled with such happiness that Spock’s breath caught, large, warm hands settling on his hips, coaxing him forwards.

‘You want it like this?’

Slicking himself up with lubricant, he settled back against the headboard and took hold of his erection, rubbing the head against Spock’s perineum. Spock nodded, eyes half-closing as Jim’s penis caught on his rim.

‘All right,’ Jim said softly, his breath hitching as he guided Spock down onto him, slow and steady.

Spock moaned as he was impaled, hands scrambling for a hold before settling on Jim’s shoulders, knees digging into the mattress. Jim, as always, allowed him to set his own pace, and when the full length of Jim’s erection was inside of him, he dropped his face into the crook of his shoulder, overwhelmed. One of Jim’s hands threaded into his hair, the other stroking over his hip.

‘You all right, darling?’

‘Yes,’ Spock gasped, voice trembling as keenly as his quadriceps in the effort to keep himself steady. ‘Yes, one moment.’

‘However long you need,’ Jim promised tenderly.

Although there was strain clear in his expression, Jim remained as still as possible, hands skimming over the expanse of his back. Spock’s body reacted as much to Jim’s tenderness as to their coupling, relaxing under those patient, gentle hands – or, at least, most of his body did. Shifting his hips to test for pain, he found some discomfort, being so full after so long making it inevitable.

‘Does it hurt, honey? We can stop; I won’t mind.’

‘No, the discomfort will fade,’ Spock insisted, beginning to rock his hips shallowly.

Sure enough, his tentative movements soon went from bearable to pleasant, and he lifted his head to press a kiss to Jim’s parted lips. Despite Jim’s remarkable restraint, Spock could feel his cresting arousal, months of pent-up desire building towards an end that he had twice provided for Spock already. Beginning a slow, rolling movement with his hips, he heard Jim’s breath rush harshly from his lips, and clenched his inner muscles in an attempt to undo him.

_‘Spock,’_ Jim moaned, his voice thick with pleasure. ‘Spock, I’m so close.’

_I know, t’hy’la._ Spock clenched again, beginning to build a rhythm. His breath stuttered as Jim’s cock brushed his prostate, the sound competing with Jim’s sigh of ecstasy. _I want you to come. We have time for more._

Using Jim’s shoulders as leverage, he lifted himself almost all the way off his erection, then slammed back down, putting thoughts of his own orgasm aside in his single-minded desire to bring his bondmate to climax.

‘God,’ Jim choked, guttural sounds of pleasure leaving his throat as Spock pushed down harder, faster, sweat-slick hands slipping from Spock’s back down to his hips.

_Yes, beloved,_ Spock hissed, his own desire building once more. _I can feel how close you are. I want to feel you come inside me._

Jim drove his hips up desperately, his voice rising in pitch along with the intensity of his pleasure, and with a final cry of Spock’s name, he reached his climax, mouth falling open and eyes closing as he filled Spock with his seed. He thrust up a few final times before settling back against the pillows, his chest heaving, and his eyes opening once more.

_E’tum, t’hy’la,_ Spock whispered, more than half-hard himself now.

‘That was amazing,’ Jim sighed, slipping gently out of him, and palming his growing erection, ‘but I’m not sure I can get it up again quite yet.’

Spock shivered, legs trembling, at the familiarity of his grip.

‘I can help, if you are agreeable?’ he offered, reaching up to touch Jim’s cheek. ‘A meld would allow you to experience my desire and achieve an erection again.’

Jim’s ensuing smile was heavenly in his brightness. He took hold of Spock’s raised hand and kissed his knuckles, the warm wetness upon sensitive skin making heat pool in his belly.

‘Your dirty talk is amazing, you know that?’ Jim lifted his hand to his face with a final caress to the back of it. ‘Go for it, honey.’

A flush of joy overtook Spock – some deep-rooted, ancient pleasure – at seeing his bondmate so eager to join their minds. Whispering the ritual words, a euphoric noise left his lips as the bond encompassed them both, a joining shallow enough that they still had awareness of their bodies, but deep enough to allow Spock’s desire to be shared.

_Fuck, baby,_ Jim moaned, his penis hardening with fascinating speed until it lay almost flat against his stomach, precome seeping from the purple-red glans. Spock reached hungrily for him, slicking him up with more lubricant from the bedside table before shifting to his knees, ready to take him in. There were still fine muscle tremors in his legs, and Jim trailed his fingertips over the outside of his thighs, eyes soft.

‘Do you want it another way? I don’t want you getting cramp.’

Torn between his desire to keep Jim happy, and the opportunity to relieve the aching in his legs, Spock shifted indecisively, fingers falling from Jim’s meld points now that the meld had taken.

‘Spock,’ Jim breathed, rolling them over so that Spock lay on his back, Jim between his legs. ‘Sweetheart, I want whatever makes you comfortable. I don’t care how you want to make love with me – hell, I don’t care if you want to stop right now. All I want is for you to feel good.’

His heart squeezing in his side, Spock threaded his hand into Jim’s hair and kissed him soundly, drawing back only when Jim gasped in a well-needed breath.

_Like this, ashayam._

‘All right,’ Jim said softly, kissing the tender skin on the inside of Spock’s knee as he drew his legs up, hooking them over his elbows. ‘Like this, then.’

He pushed slowly into Spock, groaning quietly, and through the meld, Spock could feel his own tightness surround him as well as the pleasure of being filled. Once fully sheathed, Jim lay gasping above him, a lock of golden hair falling out of place. Spock pushed it back tenderly, his eyes briefly fluttering closed as Jim withdrew an inch or so, and pushed back towards his prostate. This was how Spock preferred making love with Jim. He cared little for how others perceived the position, because sex with his bondmate was never lacklustre. The intimacy of being so close, pressed pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest, was both a comfort and a thrill, the love they shared reflected in Jim’s eyes as well as through the bond.

‘Yes, ‘shaya,’ Jim breathed, sucking gently at a spot on his neck. ‘Mmm, I like it best like this as well.’

He detached his lips from Spock’s neck, only to press them fiercely to Spock’s own as he began moving in earnest, thrusting slow and deep. Spock let out a broken moan, one hand tangling in Jim’s hair, the other stroking over the slick skin of his back, feeling powerful muscles shift with a shock of desire.

‘Taluhk,’ he gasped, his heavy cock aching as it rubbed against Jim’s stomach. ‘Jim!’

Jim whispered his name, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his collarbone, as he moved within him, grinding against his prostate with every upstroke. The meld amplified their pleasure; it ricocheted between them, rising, deepening, and Spock whimpered, their lovemaking rendering him helpless beneath the force of his own desire. He hitched his legs higher around Jim’s back, rocking his hips in counterpoint as Jim pushed into him a little harder, muffling a cry in his neck.

_I’m close, Spock, a-are you close?_

_Yes,_ Spock said breathily, feeling his sensitivity heighten as orgasm approached. He took hold of his own erection, but his hand was soon batted away by Jim, who began stroking him quickly, fingers closing firmly around his shaft. Spock moaned at the exquisite tightness, scrabbling for purchase at Jim’s shoulders.

‘Come on, baby,’ Jim growled, voice rough, and deep, and wonderful. ‘I wanna see your pretty cock spurt for me. Wanna feel you spill over my hand, wanna suck your come off my fingers. I’ve missed being with you so bad.’

Spock was in no fit state to reply, arms tightening spasmodically around Jim’s back as he sobbed his pleasure, pushing back into Jim so frantically that he lost all rhythm.

‘That’s it, sweetheart,’ Jim panted, eyes wide and adoring as he moved faster, deeper. His thumb rubbed between the ridges of Spock’s erection, and Spock cried out, inadvertently tightening around him. ‘Oh! Oh, _fuck,_ Spock!’

There was a final, clumsy swipe across the head of his cock, and Spock wailed Jim’s name as he came, pulsing thickly over his hand. Ecstasy burned through the bond, Jim’s cry muffled by the crook of Spock’s neck as orgasm took him too, one hand still milking his cock as he thrust gently into him. The meld faded naturally, the separation strange, but not unbearable. Dazed from the force of his own climax, Spock reached up to brush their lips together, kissing him lazily as they came down from their high together. One of Jim’s hands came up to cradle his cheek as they parted, satisfaction written into his smile.

‘That was amazing,’ he murmured, nuzzling his nose against Spock’s.

‘Indeed,’ Spock breathed, wincing at the faint sting as Jim slipped out of him. ‘I have missed our lovemaking dearly.’

Jim’s eyes, soft and appreciative, roamed over his naked body as he rose up a little.

‘Me too, sweetheart.’

He brought his hand up to his lips and lapped lasciviously at the mess that Spock had made of it, the sight sending a shudder of desire through Spock’s exhausted body. Jim hummed in amusement, taking up the cloth that he had used before to clean him.

‘There’s no way I could come again, but I’ll suck you if you want?’

There was another twitch of arousal, but Spock shook his head, too tired to even arch into Jim’s hands as he wished to.

‘Thank you, las’hark, but I am also fatigued,’ he said wearily, tugging Jim down beside him after he discarded the cloth in the fresher. ‘You will be happy to know that your skills in the bedroom remain undiminished, despite our recent inactivity.’

Jim grinned, leaning down to kiss him sweetly as he settled under the bedclothes.

‘Thanks, baby. Yours too, but you know that.’

Spock was glad to know that he brought his Jim pleasure, and with a rush of contentment, he allowed Jim to pull him against his side, arms wrapping tightly around him. He laid his head on Jim’s chest, stroking his hand over the tight muscles in his abdomen, experiencing that familiar flush of disbelief that somebody as beautiful and extraordinary as Jim had chosen him as bondmate.

‘I’m still amazed you chose _me,’_ Jim whispered, pressing a kiss against his crown. ‘The moment I saw you, I wanted you so badly. You saved us, Spock, and when you first turned my way, I thought I was going to pass out. I fell in love with you so quickly – you became my everything.’

‘It was the same for me,’ Spock replied softly, slipping a leg between his. ‘I feared that you would not want me, but I adored you nonetheless.’

Jim called the lights down, one hand carding tenderly through his hair whilst the other held him close.

‘I would never have rejected you. I _couldn’t_ have done. You tipped my world upside down that day, and look where we are now. Bonded, two kids, and finally off-planet. Despite everything that’s happened on Terra, it led me to you, and I’m so grateful for that.’

‘As am I,’ Spock said shakily, the emotion that had welled in him becoming a little overwhelming. ‘I love you, Jim.’

‘And I love you, so much. Think we should sleep now?’

‘An exemplary idea,’ Spock yawned, settling comfortably into the warmth that Jim provided. ‘Goodnight, beloved.’

‘Night, sweetheart,’ Jim whispered, and it was testament to how tired he was that his breath evened out in mere minutes, his common insomnia absent for now.

Spock felt the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath him, grateful that he was getting some rest. The soft hum of the ship’s engines was almost soothing, and Spock found himself drifting, beginning to prepare his body for sleep. Before he succumbed to his exhaustion, however, he made one final consideration. Now that they were settled, now that they were safe, he had to think about how best to ask a question he had been delaying for a very long time. Jim already wore the titles bondmate and father. Perhaps he would not be averse to taking on another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sap, sap, saaaaaaapppppp :'D Hope you all enjoyed this chapter - I think our boys deserved a bit of respite! - and if you did, please let me know in the comments :D You can also catch me over at my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), where I post a heck of a lot of star trek. Hope everyone has a good weekend!


	27. The Most Golden Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I juuuust missed midnight in my timezone, but still! No warnings for this chapter, just a heck of a lot of sap and sex :)

Stardate 2261.90. 1115 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

I was meant to have an interview with Jim two days ago, a few hours after speaking to Spock, but after the conversation we had, I decided to cancel it. Today, he seems calmer than he might have been then, our meeting deliberately scheduled to coincide with Theo’s naptime so that at least one of his children might be with him. He greets me with a true, if wan, smile, Theo cradled in his arms so tightly that I wonder if his arms are aching. Although he seems relatively genial today, I am keenly aware of an underlying tension in the room, a kind of brittleness within Jim which I’m not going to exploit. Still, I cannot resist hearing Jim’s opinion of what’s been going on.

I understand you’ve had a trying few days. It can’t have been easy to listen to the accusations made against you and Spock.

_[Jim’s expression darkens, a hand – perhaps unconsciously – rubbing Theo’s back.]_

JK: _[clipped]_ No, it wasn’t. First, they had the audacity to claim that they weren’t ours because we didn’t go through the proper channels – _what_ proper channels? There were none. Should we have left them with their mother’s corpse because we couldn’t legally apply for custody?

_[I am reminded of Spock as he speaks; whilst the anger of one is cold and unforgiving, and the other passionate and heated, there is the same steel beneath it all. It’s clear to anyone who listens that Jim and Spock both love their children dearly.]_

Of course not. How absurd. And then…

JK: And _then,_ the fuckers try and tell me that my husband is a shit father because he’s a Vulcan.

_[Words appear momentarily to escape him; he makes a strangled sound as his face twists with fury.]_

JK: How _dare_ they? They don’t know what he’s like with the kids, because they’ve never bothered to look. He’s an amazing father, and just because he doesn’t show emotion like I do doesn’t mean he’s the same in private. The children adore him, and he adores them, and anyone who says differently can go and fuck themselves.

_[Theo whines in his sleep, and Jim shushes him gently, kissing his crown.]_

JK: _[more softly]_ And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that Liora overheard us confronting the bastards the next day. The conversation was unsurprisingly getting pretty heated, and she had run ahead of Amanda down the corridor, and she heard. So for the last two days, my little girl has been crying hysterically, terrified that she’s going to be taken away from us.

Oh, Jesus. Have you managed to reassure her?

JK: A little, yeah. She’s still clinging to us, she still screams whenever she sees those fuckers, but they’re not taking them away. I’ve got a heck of a lot of people willing to defend us.

I bet you have. Much as I care about the situation with the kids, I do really want to continue talking to you about the Enterprise, if that’s all right?

JK: _[shrugging]_ Yeah, sure.

What was it like when you were settling in after all that time on the ground?

_[Jim’s expression softens minutely, his posture relaxing.]_

JK: It was awesome. That constant knot of dread and fear in your stomach just disappeared. I stopped having to worry about something prowling outside at night, trying to get at my children. I didn’t have to shut them in as much, which was great.

And how did everyone else take it?

JK: We all breathed a sigh of relief. There was a cohesiveness before, but once we got onto the ship, the lines between cadets and civilians blurred even more. They were my crew now, or at least the adults were, and we had a lot more time and space to train everyone up.

And I’ve heard tell of a more personal contentment too.

_[Jim smiles, a faint flush rising on his face as he twists the ring on his left hand.]_

JK: Well, we were already contented, but yeah. I know Amanda had some input, and I suspect Bones did as well, but Spock did a really good job.

* * *

That morning, the quartermaster had handed out the final set of uniforms to Ensign Beckett. A month after take-off, relief had truly settled upon them all, feeling safe in the knowledge that, for now, they and their families were untouchable. That didn’t mean inaction, though. No, the ship was alive with activity, with a big enough workload for the inexperienced crew, even if they weren’t in space yet. Jim was in his element, toting his giggling children around happily as he travelled around the Bridge, and occasionally visited other departments to check up on his busy crew. Bones _loved_ seeing him in Medbay.

Sneaking across the pristine white floor towards Bones’ office with Liora in his arms, Jim encountered Christine carrying a tray of sample pots. She raised her eyebrows upon seeing him, her mouth opening ominously, and Jim flapped his hands in a vague attempt to keep her quiet.

‘I get enough of the eyebrows from Spock,’ he hissed, putting his finger to his lips when he remembered the universal sign for silence. ‘Please.’

Liora followed suit, and Christine rolled her eyes good-naturedly, jerking her head towards the open office door before carrying on walking. Good old Chrissie. Jim grinned exaggeratedly at Liora before creeping towards the office, seeing Bones with his back to them, positioning something on the desk.

‘Hey, Bonesy!’

‘Jesus Christ!’

It was rare to catch Bones unaware, given that he seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, but this time they apparently had, considering how he whirled around, colour already rising in his face.

‘Not quite,’ Jim chirped, handing his only daughter over as a laughing, squirming peace offering, ‘but close enough.’

‘God help the world if you’d have been the Messiah,’ Bones muttered, but he was placated by Liora, his face softening as she laughed with abandon. ‘Now, what’s so funny, little lady?’

‘Your face is silly!’ she squealed, kicking her legs excitedly. God, she loved Bones.

‘Oh, is that right? What’re you guys doin’ down here anyway?’

Bones’ eyes narrowed, his all-seeing, unforgiving gaze fixing on him.

‘You sick?’ he demanded.

‘No,’ Jim blurted, ready to snatch Liora out of hypo range. ‘No, neither of us are sick. I just wanted to see how you’re getting on down here.’

There was what seemed to be a gleam of disappointment in Bones’ eyes at Jim’s denial. He bounced Liora on his hip, shrugging.

‘I got two engineering accidents – but I’m gonna count that as one seeing as Ensign Crusher is perpetually in here – and three unvaccinated kids with a virus. I’ll make sure they get their shots.’

‘Crusher’s here _again?_ What’s he done this time?’

‘Chopped half his index finger off trying to get into an access panel. Don’t worry, I reattached it.’

‘Oh my God, that kid,’ Jim muttered, exasperated.

As Bones shifted Liora in his arms, he noticed a thin strip of white around his wrist, a tan line that would never normally have been there considering the bracelet he habitually wore. Catching his eye, Bones smiled sadly, moving sideways to reveal the frayed bracelet lying on the desk.

‘Gotta be bare below the elbows for infection control.’

‘Bones,’ Jim said weakly, taking Liora from him as she reached for him. ‘Bones, you don’t have to-’

Bones held a hand up, shaking his head.

‘It’s all right. I’m all right, don’t worry. It was getting worn on my wrist anyway.’

That familiar flood of guilt and pain washed over Jim, who felt Spock’s answering concern in the back of his mind.

_Jim, are you well?_

_Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry. Just memories._

_If you are in need of me…_

_I know. Thanks, baby._

Jim reached out and clasped Bones’ hand for a moment, drawing a small, pained smile from him before he pulled away.

‘I’m all right, Jimmy,’ he repeated softly, sinking back onto the desk.

‘You can come to me whenever you want, you know that,’ Jim reminded him. ‘Any time.’

Bones nodded, smiling a little more genuinely.

‘Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jim.’

‘No problem. Hey, you seeing Alfie today?’

Jim wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, watching a scowl form on Bones’ face with true joy.

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Bones growled. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘I live in hope,’ Jim laughed, fully prepared to keep on teasing. ‘When you finally-’

‘Leonard?’ Christine called, popping her head round the doorway. ‘Sorry, Jim. Leonard, can I just get your help with Crusher a minute?’

‘Yeah, sure, I’m comin’.’

Bones levered himself off the desk, clapping Jim’s shoulder and ruffling Liora’s hair on the way out.

‘See you later, kids.’

‘Bye!’ Jim called after him, swinging Liora round to his other side. ‘Right, honey. You want to go and see Sa-mekh?’

She nodded emphatically, curling her hand into his shirt as he left Medbay, the cloying, clinical smell lingering in the back of his throat. Walking towards the turbolift, he noticed Liora burrow into him and wrapped his free arm around her in response, tapping her on the leg.

‘What’s the matter, sweet pea?’

‘Is Bonesy mad?’ she asked quietly, leaning out of his arms to press the button for the turbolift.

‘No, baby girl,’ Jim reassured her, kissing her temple. ‘Not really, and not with you. He is a little sad, though.’

As they got into the lift, she tugged at his sleeve, drawing his attention again.

‘Why, Daddy?’

Jim sighed, rocking her gently as Joanna came to mind once more. Liora knew a little about Jojo, but not much. Jim and Spock had wanted to protect their baby just as much as Leonard had his.

‘You know who Alfie is, don’t you, honey?’

She nodded, her sweet face filled with more concern than a toddler should be allowed to have.

‘Well, Uncle Bones loves Alfie very much, but he’s frightened.’

‘Why?’

Jim hesitated, watching the lights fly up the control panel as the lift rose.

‘Because he had a little baby just like you once, and she went to be with the angels. And he’s scared that Alfie might go and be with the angels one day too.’

Silently, she considered this, then came to the same conclusion that all the rest of them had.

‘But Alfie here!’ she announced, her forehead crinkling. ‘Not wif the angels!’

Jim smiled, letting her wriggle to the floor as the turbolift came to a halt.

‘That’s right, honey. Alfie’s here.’

‘Keptin on ze Bridge!’ Chekov called, as Liora began dragging him by the hand to Spock’s station.

Bent at the waist, the slave to a two-year old, Jim gave him a sheepish grin. Spock turned to greet them with as much pleasure as he would show in public, and Liora let go of Jim’s hand.

‘Sa-mekh!’ she squealed, almost squishing her brother as she flew at him.

‘Hello, daughter,’ Spock said evenly, shifting Theo to his other knee to allow her some space. ‘Be careful – your brother is very small.’

‘I know.’

She touched his pudgy hand gently, then yanked her finger away as Theo tried to insert it into his mouth. He whined when she did so, and Spock handed him a teething ring in order to avoid the looming meltdown of epic proportions, both of them relieved when he began chewing happily on it. Bending over Spock’s shoulder, Jim looked at his computer display, upon which there was an atmospheric map loading data.

‘Anything?’ he murmured, helping Liora down off Spock’s lap. He watched her until she settled in the area beside the chair which had been sectioned off for her, the toys which had been so kindly provided for her scattered around on the floor.

They had risen a little today - testing the waters, so to speak - and had received a warning for their troubles, a message flashing up on the terminals on the Bridge:

**‘DO NOT INCREASE YOUR ALTITUDE ABOVE 40000 FEET. NON-COMPLIANCE WILL RESULT IN THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SHIP.’**

Unsurprisingly, Jim had listened, even if he considered trapping everyone down here a dick move.

‘There are four ships stationed in the thermosphere, 87.23 kilometres above the Kármán line.’

Spock tore his eyes from his screen and looked to Jim, his hand, perhaps unconsciously, stroking Theo’s hair in rhythmic fashion.

‘Given the Federation’s apparent abandonment of 10.57 billion humanoids during their time of need, I see no reason that they would not follow through on their threat if we were to disobey.’

‘And we can’t risk that,’ Jim sighed, hand lingering on his shoulder as he stood up straight. ‘Want me to take Teddy Bear?’

Spock raised an eyebrow, as he always did when Jim used that particular nickname.

‘He is… not interfering with my work,’ he replied, both their attentions turning to Theo as he babbled. ‘No, Theodore, you are not.’

‘Ot!’ Theo repeated, reaching up to Spock’s face and tapping it gently. ‘Meh!’

‘Chatty today, aren’t you, baby?’ Jim cooed, touching his little hand. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease. _All right, softie. I’ll leave you to your cuddles._

As Spock stayed damningly silent, Jim approached Nyota, who was frowning darkly at her screen.

‘Still nothing?’

‘Unfortunately,’ she confirmed, huffing in frustration. ‘No matter how many messages I send. They might have disabled the comms network, but considering the warning they gave us this morning, there’s no way we’re not under some kind of surveillance. They know we’re here, and they’re listening. They’re just ignoring us.’

Long-suppressed anger welled in Jim, but he forced it down, aware that giving into it wouldn’t help the situation at all.

‘Can you set something automatic up? Ping them, say, three times a day, so you don’t have to keep going back to it?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ she replied, adjusting her earpiece as she began relaying the message to the computer.

‘Thanks, Nyota.’

Deciding it was time for a break after dashing about the ship all morning, Jim dropped into his chair, sighing as he got a chance to rest his aching feet. The sky was clear where they were, cirrostratus clouds drifting across the viewscreen, and he marvelled at how peaceful the sky was compared to the ground. Who knew how many people were still down there, fighting for their lives? As Jim’s mood began to darken, he resorted to his usual coping method: looking for one of his children. Liora had been beside him in the chair, but now she was absorbed quite happily in a (mostly one-sided) conversation with Lieutenant Darwin at her station.

‘This is weird,’ he mused aloud. ‘I’m childless.’

‘Not for long, I don’t think,’ Sulu chipped in, lifting his chin to indicate Liora’s return, her arm wrapping firmly around Jim’s calf as she retook her place by his feet.

Snorting, Jim stroked her hair back from her face, a rush of affection overtaking him as he watched her play quietly with her teddy. He and Spock had lucked out, that was for sure. When he thought what could have happened to the kids if he and Spock hadn’t have discovered them, his blood ran cold.

 _I am going to go and change Theodore’s diaper,_ Spock announced, interrupting him before his thoughts could take a horrible turn. _My mother will be taking care of the children tonight._

 _Why?_ Jim asked, turning to watch him leave.

_You will see._

With a tiny quirk of his lips, Spock took Theo into his arms and made for the turbolift, a faint sense of excitement flooding through their connection before Spock clamped down on it. Intrigued, Jim sat back in the chair, lifting Liora onto his lap when she clamoured to see the clouds. His depressing thoughts evaporated, and there began a quickening in his heart as he considered what that spark of excitement could mean. He was pretty sure that he was looking forward to tonight.

At 1815 that evening, he wasn’t feeling quite so positive. Spock had declared a need to go and help set up Laboratory Three, and at his behest, Jim had begun soothing the children to sleep in Amanda’s quarters. Amanda had excused herself for a while, promising to return within half an hour, and so Jim was alone with the children for the first time in a long while. They had been crying, both exhausted, and missing their Sa-mekh, clearly distraught over his unfamiliar absence.

‘Shhhh, babies,’ Jim cooed, trying to wipe two little faces free of tears at the same time. ‘Shhhh.’

Liora was beginning to quiet as she tired, but the occasional choked sob still left her in between shuddering breaths, fulfilling her dramatic need to match her brother in displays of misery. She lay against Jim’s left side, ruddy-faced and miserable, whilst Theo was cradled on his right, chubby fists closed around the soft material of his Command golds as he whimpered.

‘It’s all right,’ Jim whispered, ignoring the fact that he quite desperately needed to pee as he held them close. ‘Shhh, kan-bular.’

His accent was probably horrendous, but whatever. As he tried to soothe them, kissing each brow alternately, a piece of music drifted into his head. He wasn’t sure where he remembered it from, but it was somehow comforting, and so he began to hum along, noticing with relief how the children seemed to calm. From the depths of his memory emerged the sound of an older lady singing, so he followed along as best he could, even if a few words were forgotten along the way.

‘Lullaby, and good night, in the skies stars are bright. May the moon’s silvery beams bring you sweet dreams.’

Though the sniffling continued, the outright crying stopped as he sang, rocking the children slowly to time. His bladder throbbed, but he closed his eyes and ignored it still, concentrating on the music.

‘Sleepyhead, close your eyes, for I'm right beside you. Guardian angels are near, so sleep without fear.’

Faintly, he heard the door open and close, but he kept his eyes tightly shut for the remainder of the lullaby, knowing how fragile his equilibrium was. The children were silent now, apart from their snuffly breathing.

‘Sleep through the night,’ he sang softly, his voice barely a whisper as he looked up at Spock, a tender smile quite openly on his lips.

 _Your voice is beautiful, t’hy’la,_ he murmured, his hand cradling Jim’s face as he leant down for a sweet kiss.

Jim flushed, returning the kiss as tenderly as he could, his arms pinned by the children.

_They’ve missed you, you know. Cried all night for their Sa-mekh._

‘I regret my absence,’ Spock whispered as they parted, guilt curling through the bond. ‘However, it was necessary.’

He passed a hand over Liora’s hair, stroked Theo’s cheek with the back of a finger, yet despite the warmth that curled within at seeing Spock so demonstrative with their children, his bladder grew too insistent to ignore.

‘Spock, I need to pee so bad,’ he blurted, almost as desperate not to wake the children as he was to get to the bathroom.

‘I know, ashaya, I can feel it.’

Spock swiftly lifted Liora into his arms and carried her to the low bed that had been set up. When she stirred, he whispered a soft string of Vulcan to her, and she quieted, allowing him to tuck her in without further incident. Jim, who didn’t dare stand up with Theo in case his inadvertent desperation dance woke him, handed him straight off to Spock when he got the chance. Dizzily, he stood, letting his hand slide across the small of Spock’s back as he darted over to Amanda’s bathroom, slamming his hand down on the door release and fighting with his trouser button. Uncaring about the door he had left open, he pulled the toilet seat up with shaking fingers and shoved his pants down his thighs, taking himself roughly in hand. For a long moment, nothing happened, and a distressed noise bubbled from Jim’s lips as a mere trickle came out. The pressure began to hurt.

‘Relax, Jim,’ Spock said softly, standing in the doorway. When another spurt had him clutching his pelvis, he came forward, reaching out to him. ‘Do you wish me to-’

He stopped short as Jim finally wrested control from his bladder, sighing in relief so profound it was almost pleasure. Jim’s body sagged forward as the pressure abated, his hand smacking against the wall to hold him up.

‘You should not wait so long,’ Spock admonished, although gently.

‘It was a one-off,’ Jim rasped, squeezing the last of it out and shaking himself before redressing. ‘And I didn’t mean to – the kids weren’t settling without you.’

It was kind of weird to Jim how weird it _wasn’t_ for Spock to be there, but he supposed he’d seen a lot worse with the kids. As he zipped up his pants, the door to Amanda’s quarters slid open, and Spock immediately pressed the door release, shutting him in.

‘Hey!’ he hissed, as he washed his hands. ‘I’m decent, you know.’

Spock and Amanda both looked rather conspiratorial when the door opened, and Jim narrowed his eyes suspiciously, watching Amanda’s rather more expressive face for clues. He didn’t get much chance to question her though, because she ushered them both straight towards the exit as he left the bathroom.

‘All right, you two, enjoy yourselves,’ she beamed, laying a gentle hand on his back to guide him out. ‘The children are safe with me.’

‘We’ll come straight back if you need us,’ Jim promised, allowing Spock to lead him away. ‘Thanks, Amanda.’

‘No problem!’

The door closed, and Jim felt another rush of suspicion as he caught a glimpse of Spock’s nervousness through the bond once more, his hand clasping Jim’s arm loosely.

‘Where are we going?’ Jim asked, for what must have been the tenth time that day. When Spock merely provided the enigmatic answer he had earlier on, Jim huffed. ‘Fine, but I hope there’s food.’

‘There is,’ Spock replied softly, coming to a halt in front of one of the observation decks. He keyed in the code with Jim looking on, then led him into the room. On the dais, just before the steps that led down to the great window, was a table clearly set up for a romantic dinner, complete with candles and golden roses as a centrepiece. As Jim stared, amazed and delighted in equal measure, Spock gave him a tiny, anxious smile, looking for approval.

‘Spock, this is amazing,’ Jim laughed, pressing their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss, then their mouths together in a human one. ‘Are those real roses?’

Spock responded eagerly, nodding as they pulled back.

‘Lieutenant Sulu aided me. He has quite the collection of seeds. Would you care to eat t’hy’la?’

‘God, yeah,’ Jim grinned, kissing him once more, before making his way over to the table. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

Spock raised an eyebrow, though it didn’t hold quite the usual level of sass.

‘I believe so.’

Jim didn’t know how the hell he’d got it past Bones, but there was a plate of steak, chips and peas on his side, and what seemed to be a nut roast on Spock’s. As he sat, he pushed all the gratitude and affection he could through the bond, taking hold of one of Spock’s hands across the table.

‘This is wonderful, Spock,’ he said warmly, revelling in the satisfaction he could feel rolling off him. ‘I love it. I love you.’

‘I cherish thee,’ Spock replied, eyes soft and lighter than usual in the candlelight. ‘And I am glad you like it.’

They ate slowly, hands touching and stroking one another, speaking little. They had always been comfortable in silence, and the quiet afforded Jim the opportunity to stare at his bondmate, marvelling that somebody so perfect was his. He cast an appreciative gaze over that strong jawline, the soft silky hair he loved to run his fingers through, and those beautifully pointed ears, which made Spock blush so prettily when he sucked on the tips. Spock was a piece of art, and had the personality and intelligence to match Jim perfectly. Two halves of a whole. When he thought about how many people had been lost, how many opportunities there had been for them to be separated or killed, Jim was amazed at how lucky they’d been.

As he placed his fork back on the table, running his fingers gently along Spock’s, he noticed a certain lingering sign of nerves, Spock’s free hand trembling a little as he placed his own cutlery down.

‘Sweetheart, are you all right?’ he murmured, bringing their joined hands up to kiss at his knuckles.

Spock shuddered, nodding.

‘K’hat’n’dlawa,’ he said, and the smile slipped from Jim’s face at the tremor in his voice. ‘I wish to say something.’

‘Anything,’ Jim breathed, watching him with worry filling his chest. ‘Anything, you know that.’

Spock took a deep breath, and the uncharacteristic hesitancy was rather concerning.

‘I am aware that the anniversary of our bonding is in 2.84 weeks,’ he began, still holding Jim’s hand across the table. ‘I am also aware that humans often consider such anniversaries special, which is why I have chosen to do this tonight, so as not to interfere with it.’

Jim frowned in confusion, but quite happily allowed Spock to stroke his thumb over his hand as he continued.

‘Jim, as a child, I never imagined that I could have a relationship such as ours. You have given me acceptance, which I never experienced on Vulcan. You have given me love, which I never thought a bondmate could feel for me. When you first arrived in Des Moines, I knew that you and I were connected in some way, but I never expected this – to be loved so fiercely, and to allow myself to reciprocate just as intensely. It is an honour to have you as a bondmate, and the father of my children. Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, t’hy’la.’

‘And I love you,’ Jim said hoarsely, his heart beating faster and faster as he dared to hope. ‘I love you so much.’

Never breaking eye contact, Spock kept hold of Jim’s hand as he stood, then smoothly got down on one knee. Jim could hear his own pulse, feeling his face flush with heat as Spock retrieved a set of rings from his back pocket, clasping one in his palm, and holding the other between his thumb and forefinger.

‘James,’ he said, voice trembling as keenly as his hands. ‘Would you consent to becoming my husband?’

It took a moment for the words to register, a moment during which Spock’s uncertainty began to grow, but then Jim came back to himself, and the uncertainty was wiped out by the pure joy that lit up the bond.

‘Yes,’ he blurted, a shaky, high-pitched laugh bubbling from his lips. _‘God_ yes, Spock, I’ll marry you.’

A true, wide smile stretched Spock’s lips, and Jim only had a second to consider how strange and beautiful it was before Spock was kissing him, rising from the floor and holding him tightly as their mouths moved passionately together. Jim whimpered when they parted, feeling an intense need to be close to him, but his dismay melted away as Spock brought his hand to his lips, pressing reverent kisses over his knuckles before sliding one of the rings onto his finger, eyes dark and beautiful.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Jim whispered, getting a proper look at it for the first time. It was a bright silver band with a milgrain edge, and what looked to be a diamond in the middle, reflecting the light beautifully as he turned his hand this way and that. ‘What metal is it? And is that a diamond?’

Spock nodded, his face faintly flushed.

‘It is platinum,’ he murmured, opening his palm to reveal a matching ring.

Jim couldn’t repress a joyful smile as he took the ring delicately from Spock’s hand. He kissed his knuckles in a mirror of what had been done to him, and Spock moaned softly, his eyelids fluttering a little. Jim felt a swell of emotion as he slid Spock’s ring onto his finger, and he kissed him gently once it was in place, pulling back only to rest their foreheads together, his hands cupping Spock’s face.

‘Where did you get these?’

Spock slipped strong arms around his waist, thumb stroking at the raised line of his spine.

‘When I informed my mother of my intentions to propose, she took a number of items of jewellery to Ensign Xrat, who had been a jeweller before the epidemic. Once it had been melted down, and I could not protest her giving up her personal items, she brought me to the Ensign to agree on a design. I had Leonard’s input as well as my mother’s, and Ensign Xrat created four rings out of the materials she had been given.’

‘Four?’ Jim repeated, bringing a hand up to trace over Spock’s ear, then slide into his hair as Spock burrowed into his neck.

‘Yes. Two for our engagement. Two for our wedding.’

Wedding. They were getting _married._ Jim felt a rush of arousal so acute that he shivered, arching onto his toes as Spock kissed and licked at his neck, desperate for his touch.

‘Let’s go back to our quarters,’ he suggested, a shuddering breath leaving his lips as Spock tugged his collar down to suck a lovebite into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

_Of course, taluhk._

Spock drew away with a final, suckling kiss, heat in his eyes as he took Jim’s hand. The room was abandoned – Jim vowed to help clean up tomorrow – and they walked the short distance back together, fingers stroking and twining in a way that always got Spock hot. Thankfully, they encountered no one on the way, and the moment that the door closed behind them, Spock was on him, herding him clumsily towards the bed as they kissed. Jim felt ready to come even though they’d barely started, the cool metal of Spock’s ring brushing against his skin as a hand slipped beneath his shirts, arousing him twofold. That Spock would consent to wear a ring on his sensitive finger was enough to make Jim dizzy with want, but what it symbolised – despite the bond they already shared – was even more so.

‘Please, Spock,’ he found himself begging, lifting his arms so that Spock could remove his shirts. ‘Please, sweetheart, I need you now.’

‘Yes, beloved,’ Spock breathed, quickly stripping to his underwear before moving to undo Jim’s belt, kissing him fiercely.

Jim stroked his hands over the lean muscles of Spock’s back as Spock licked into his mouth, his belt removed and trousers undone with remarkable speed. He groaned as Spock cupped his swollen cock through his boxers, Spock’s free hand stroking lightly down his arm as his mouth descended down the column of Jim’s neck.

 _‘Fuck,’_ Jim sighed, grinding into Spock’s palm, his cock throbbing. ‘Baby, I won’t last.’

Spock pulled away from his neck, lips swollen and shining from where they had doubtless left lovebites on his skin. His pupils were blown wide, and when he spoke, his voice was deep enough that Jim felt it in his belly.

‘You do not need to.’

Jim’s knees had long since gone weak, so there was little resistance as Spock pushed him gently down to sit on the edge of the bed, removing his trousers and socks, and kneeling before him.

‘Spock, what-’

The question he had been meaning to ask escaped him as Spock leant up and dragged his tongue over Jim’s nipple, drawing a ragged sigh from his lips. Strong hands smoothed up his thighs as Spock pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses from his sternum to his navel, then, with eyes meeting Jim’s own, mouthing at the bulge in his boxers.

‘Yes,’ Jim breathed, his hips twitching reflexively.

‘May I remove these, t’hy’la?’

Jim nodded, lifting his hips to allow Spock to divest him of his underwear, his cock bouncing as it caught on the elastic, achingly hard. Spock eyed it hungrily, taking it in a loose hold as he drew it towards his mouth, lapping at the weeping slit. Jim gasped, his hands threading into Spock’s soft hair as he pushed his hips forwards in an unspoken plea. Spock obliged him, lips parting and sealing around his cock, eyes half-lidded as he suckled gently at the head.

‘Spock,’ Jim whined, his breath catching when Spock took him in further, tongue lapping at the underside of his shaft as he pulled back to tease his slit once more. His hips rocked of their own accord as Spock’s hand curled around the lower half of his cock, tugging gently in a rhythm that perfectly matched the one his mouth made. ‘You’re so fucking gorgeous like this. I wanna come so bad.’

_You will, ashaya. Take yourself in hand for me._

Jim’s hand replaced Spock’s as he continued to suck him, Spock’s long, pale fingers trailing down to stroke at his perineum in a way that made Jim’s thigh muscles twitch and tremble. A helpless whimper escaped him as Spock flicked his tongue over his frenulum, a wave of pleasure rising within.

 _Tell me when you are about to come,_ Spock said heatedly, responding to Jim’s flicker of confusion with a heated explanation. _I see all of your fantasies, beloved. I see your wish to mark me as your own, and I would see that fantasy fulfilled._

Jim groaned deep in his throat, watching his cock slide between Spock’s lips with desire coiling tight in his belly.

 _Close, Spock,_ he choked, and Spock pulled away, settling lower on his knees as Jim worked himself roughly.

He could feel his balls begin to draw up, one hand blurring in movement as the other tugged gently at Spock’s hair. Spock’s naked chest heaved, his hands stroking over Jim’s calves, feather-light.

 _T’hy’la,_ Spock sighed, his eyes falling closed, and pretty lips parting.

The light glinted off his ring as he reached up to caress Jim’s thigh, which was all it took to tip Jim over the edge. Spock’s head tilted up as if in rapture, and Jim moaned his name, stroking his cock loosely as come spurted onto his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. As Spock’s eyes opened, the look in them almost dazed, Jim squeezed the last few pearls of semen out onto his lower lip, then rubbed his cock against it.

 _‘God,_ Spock,’ he whispered as Spock’s mouth opened further, taking him in once more. He rocked gently into him a few times, Spock’s pliancy sending a jolt of renewed arousal through him before the sensitivity became too much and he pulled out. ‘I can’t believe you let me do that.’

‘I wanted you to,’ Spock murmured, and Jim leant down to kiss him heedless of the semen.

‘I wouldn’t mind the reverse,’ he smiled, kissing Spock once more before wetting a cloth from the fresher and gently wiping him clean. ‘I mean it, honey.’

Jim helped Spock up, their hands tangling together as he stood, and Jim found himself staring at their matching rings again, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

‘Oh my God, Spock. You’re my fiancé.’

There was a flicker of amusement in Spock’s eyes, and his thumb ran over Jim’s ring as he guided him down onto the bed.

‘I know, ashal-veh,’ he said fondly, settling between his legs. ‘And I am very grateful that you accepted my proposal.’

Spock’s thick erection jutted out over Jim’s spent cock, drooling precome onto him, and Jim gently caressed the sticky head with his fingertips as he replied.

‘Of course I did. You’re my everything. I love you so much.’

Spock shivered at his gentle probing, two fingers sweeping across his cheek as he leant down to press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips.

‘I cherish thee, khio’ri,’ he purred, sliding a hand down his chest to tease Jim’s sensitive cock. ‘And I would show you how much.’

‘Yes,’ Jim breathed, feeling arousal stir once more.

He arched his back as Spock’s hands smoothed up his sides, a cool, wet mouth sucking at his pulse point, then trailing down his neck and over his collarbones. His thumb and forefinger gently pinched Jim’s nipple, wringing a mewl from him as he ran his fingers through soft black hair, then up over the points of Spock’s ears, making him shudder.

 _Your sensitivity here is… stimulating,_ Spock murmured, dark eyes flicking up to Jim’s as he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

‘Glad you like it,’ Jim said, his breathless laughter choking off in a moan as Spock began to suck, his tongue flicking gently over the nub. ‘Mmmm, s’good, ‘shaya.’

He cradled Spock’s head against his chest, arching into his cool, wet mouth with a whimper of pleasure, his cock beginning to stiffen. Spock’s mouth left him with a quiet pop, but Jim didn’t get a chance to complain before his other nipple was duly taken in, Spock’s palpable desire rising with every sound that left his mouth. Rocking his hips against the thigh between his legs, Jim let out a breathy cry as Spock gently suckled him, wanting everything at once.

‘Please, sweetheart,’ he begged, feeling hot all over as Spock’s hand drifted to his renewed erection. ‘Spock, baby, please.’

Spock’s lips were pink and swollen when he pulled away, his pupils blown hugely, and when Jim reached down to palm his slick erection, the noise he made Jim’s stomach clench.

‘Las’hark,’ he said hoarsely, taking Jim’s hand in his and kissing his palm, ‘you cannot know how grateful I am that you have consented to be mine.’

Jim’s heart fluttered, even after all this time. His free hand left Spock’s hair to cradle his cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with the kind of emotion that would have sent him running for the hills with anyone else.

‘I’m the lucky one. I didn’t know I could be this happy until I met you.’

‘Nor I,’ Spock whispered, the love he exuded – no matter how many times he had felt it – making tears well in Jim’s eyes.

Determined not to cry, he let out a watery laugh and touched two fingers to Spock’s lips, his cock swelling further as Spock took them into his mouth and sucked lightly.

 _Want you inside me,_ he sighed, pulling his wet fingers from Spock’s mouth and trailing them over his chest. _Will you, my love?_

_Of course, James._

Jim quivered with anticipation as Spock reached into the top drawer of the bedside table and pulled out the lube, flicking the lid open. His eyes were soft and warm as he bent to kiss Jim, settling back between his legs and coating his fingers with it. As Jim pulled his knees up, shivering at the exposure, Spock rested his weight on one forearm, his bicep muscle pulling taut enough to draw Jim’s eye. He stroked his hand along it covetously, lips parting in a gasp as a slick finger teased his hole.

‘Like this?’ Spock whispered, gently pushing inwards.

‘Just like that,’ Jim said breathlessly, anchoring one hand in the duvet as the other clutched at Spock’s bicep.

Spock kissed him as he worked his finger in and out with aching slowness, their mouths moving languidly together. There was no rush, not even as arousal burned in Jim’s belly once more, his tongue sliding slickly across Spock’s lower lip as Spock pressed closer, only to be sucked into Spock’s eager mouth. The pad of a second finger stroked tentatively at him, and at Jim’s fervent encouragement, Spock pressed it alongside the other, the stretch burning a little, but not enough to be truly uncomfortable.

‘Are you well?’ Spock murmured, breaking their kiss as Jim’s flash of pain ricocheted through them both.

‘I’m fine,’ Jim smiled, lifting his hips in order to impale himself a little more, the pain giving way to mere discomfort. ‘It’s okay, baby. It doesn’t hurt.’

Spock’s eyes met his with an intensity that made his cock twitch, before he bent to suck at Jim’s neck, his fingers gently scissoring inside of him. When they brushed over his prostate, Jim let out a breathy cry, writhing beneath him as clever fingers quickly returned to tap and stroke at it.

‘Spock,’ he whined, a fat drop of precome welling at the head of his cock and dripping onto his stomach. ‘Please, Spock, I want you.’

‘One more, beloved,’ Spock breathed, slipping the third alongside the others with more ease than expected.

Jim felt something cool press up against him and moaned helplessly, realising that it was Spock’s engagement ring. Having the symbol of their union so close to being inside him was somehow deliriously arousing, and Spock apparently thought so too, judging by the soft moan in his ear as Jim clenched around him. He brought Jim to the edge three times, knowing exactly when he was about to come; at the third, Jim let out a broken sob, oversensitive and shaking as Spock kissed his swollen lips.

‘Shhh, ashaya.’

When Spock finally, _finally_ withdrew his fingers, Jim felt empty. With a whimper of distress, he reached for the lube and opened it with shaking fingers, taking hold of Spock’s erection. He didn’t need it – he never needed it – but Jim liked to watch his face contort with pleasure and his hips jerk reflexively, precome drooling down his hand as he slicked him up. When Spock touched his hand in a silent plea, he laid back against the warm duvet, and Spock settled over him with dark, adoring eyes.

‘My betrothed,’ he whispered, kissing the sensitive skin in the crook of Jim’s knee.

Jim shivered, the way Spock was looking at him making his heart pound and his erection ache between his legs.

‘Yes, darling,’ he said thickly, trailing his hands up the tight muscles of his back. ‘I want you.’

Spock kissed him chastely, barely brushing their lips together, before taking himself in hand. Jim tried to relax as best he could as Spock pushed into him a little at a time, the slow stretch familiar, yet still overwhelming, and he grasped for purchase at Spock’s shoulders. In his ear, Spock’s breath was shaky and uneven, one hand feathering up and down Jim’s thigh.

_James, are you-_

_I’m fine,_ Jim said softly, turning his head to kiss him. ‘You can move, it’s all right.’

He pulled his knees up closer to his chest as Spock’s hands rose to cradle his cheeks, long fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. Spock was trembling a little, his desire burning through the bond, infecting Jim with its intensity.

‘T’nash-veh,’ he murmured, his voice a deep rumble which belied the tenderness of his hands, and, with a soft moan, began gently to move within Jim.

Jim held tight to his back, sweat beginning to pool on his skin as Spock’s movements gained a slow, deep rhythm, sloppy kisses raining over his neck and chest. Spock knew his body intimately – which was always obvious when he made love to him – and tonight was no exception, each calculated thrust designed to bring Jim most pleasure. He cried out as Spock rubbed against his prostate again and again, warmth pooling low in his belly.

‘Spock, please,’ he choked, hips bucking feverishly despite Spock’s sedate pace. ‘I need – _ohhh_ – I need-’

_I know what you need, James._

Spock barely sped up, forcing Jim’s pleasure into a slow burn that left him with trembling thighs and a flush of heat from head to toe, almost unbearable in its intensity. His hair was messy and his breath was short as he kissed Jim passionately, muffling his moan as he took Jim’s erection in hand and stroked it firmly, circling his thumb over the head just the way he liked it. Jim felt light-headed, and he tore his lips away to gasp in a lungful of air, a helpless moan escaping him as Spock’s hand descended to play with his balls, rolling them within his sac. He could feel his climax approaching, waves of heat rising higher and higher, and he squirmed beneath Spock’s gentle touch, threading one shaking hand into his hair.

 _So close, my t’hy’la,_ Spock crooned, rubbing his thumb against Jim’s frenulum. _Let go for me, Jim._

With a final twist to the head of his cock, Jim wailed Spock’s name as he came, his vision blurring for a moment with the force of his orgasm. He fell limp in the afterglow, smoothing his hands over Spock’s back as he held himself still for Jim’s sake while the sensitivity lasted.

‘S’all right, sweetheart,’ Jim murmured eventually, seeing how hard he was trying. ‘Go on.’

Spock exhaled shakily, the muscles in his arms tremoring as he began to move again. Jim pushed his hair back from his face, trailing two fingers down his face and letting him suck on them, the slight discomfort of before dissipating in favour of something much more pleasant. As Spock’s breathing quickened, muffled moans leaving his lips, Jim pulled his fingers out of his mouth and sighed with pleasure, shifting beneath him.

‘Only you could get me going again so quickly,’ he grinned, breathless but triumphant as he noticed that his cock was half-hard again.

Spock’s desperate eyes flicked down to it for a moment before returning to his, arousal flashing through their connection.

‘You like that, huh?’

 _‘Jim,’_ Spock choked, beginning to lose his rhythm a little.

 _Yeah, I know you do,_ Jim whispered, reaching down to his cock and tugging gently at it. _You love it when I get hot for you, love seeing me come on your dick. You’re so good, Spock. I could stay in bed with you for days, let you fill me up over and over like you’re trying to put a baby in me, until your come is drooling out of me…_

‘Jim!’

Spock pressed his face into the crook of Jim’s neck as he came, the force of his ecstasy leaving them both gasping in its wake. He rocked into Jim with a shuddering sigh as he came down from the high, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before slowly, gently slipping out of him. Jim whimpered, barely feeling the sting as desperation took hold, his erection lying flushed and wet against his belly.

‘Shhh, James,’ Spock cooed, sliding down his body to lick and suck at a flushed nipple before moving further down between Jim’s legs.

Jim flushed as he stared, thumbs slipping into his cleft and holding him open to look at what he’d left behind. Rising up a little, Spock kissed his way down his cock and taut sac, drawing a moan from his lips, body thrumming with tension in anticipation of what was coming next.

 _Relax, beloved,_ Spock purred, kissing his inner thigh before bending to lick a stripe over his hole. Jim whined when he pushed his tongue inside, deriving pleasure from the thought as much as the deed as Spock ate him out like his life depended on it, hands smoothing reverently over his thighs. He clutched at the bedsheets, having lost all control of the noises he was making, rocking back shamelessly into Spock’s tongue.

‘Please, Spock,’ he begged, sliding a hand down his belly to take hold of his cock. He felt hot all over, dizzy with desire. ‘Please, I’m so close.’

Spock’s mouth suddenly left him, and he cried out at the loss, only to be very quickly consoled by it closing around his cock instead, two fingers gently slipping inside him to tease at his prostate. His thighs shook, hips bucking upwards as Spock swallowed around him, wide eyes meeting his.

‘Oh, fuck, _fuck!’_

His feet slipped on the duvet as he arched into Spock’s mouth, heat coiling tight in his abdomen. Spock drew back to lap at the head of his cock, pressing hard on his prostate, and Jim came explosively, a wordless cry tearing from his throat as Spock swallowed what little semen his spent body could produce. He collapsed back onto the bed, aftershocks still coursing through him as Spock came to lie beside him, kissing him gently.

‘Beautiful, t’hy’la,’ he murmured, pulling away to retrieve the cloth he had left on the bedside table earlier. ‘You are beautiful.’

‘So are you,’ Jim breathed, a tired smile spreading across his face as Spock gently dabbed the cloth between his legs. ‘Damn, I think that might be the hardest I’ve ever come in my life. Actually, no, when we bonded I thought I was going to pass out.’

Spock’s pride was quickly concealed, but Jim noticed it nonetheless, his knowing smile triggering a flush in Spock’s cheeks.

‘Our lovemaking has always been incredibly satisfying to me,’ Spock said softly, depositing the cloth in the bathroom before returning to bed.

Jim welcomed him with open arms, allowing him to roll them over and press a series of loving, lingering kisses to his lips, lacking the desperate need of before. When they parted, Jim kept his eyes closed for a long moment, skimming his nose against the underside of Spock’s jaw, and settled comfortably upon him, entirely unconcerned by their nudity. One of Spock’s arms held him close, a hand settling on his hip, but Jim caught the other before it could wind around him, running his thumb over the ring he had put on Spock’s finger.

‘I love you,’ he sighed, sleepy and sated. Affection surrounded him as surely as Spock’s arms, their bond a very tangible comfort.

‘And I you, Jim,’ Spock replied softly, tightening his grip around Jim’s waist. ‘Lights, ten percent.’

The dim light permeating the blackness was enough to allow Jim to relax, his fingers playing with the whorls of Spock’s chest hair as he drifted off.

‘I hope the babies are all right,’ he whispered, remembering how they’d cried without Spock earlier that evening.

‘They are; do not worry, ashayam. I instructed my mother to contact us immediately if there were any problems.’

Spock kissed his forehead, hand skimming slowly over his hip.

‘Sleep, Jim. We will see them in the morning.’

Despite the light and his overactive imagination, Jim was worn out enough that he obeyed within minutes, the gentle thudding of Spock’s heart a better soporific than any pill he’d ever been forced to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so I even managed to embarrass _myself_ writing this chapter - I think it's the most explicit I've ever been! It's a teeny bit late, but I hope you can forgive me considering the length of it :)
> 
> If anyone's interested, the engagement rings are [here](http://www.tiffany.co.uk/jewelry/rings/two-row-band-ring-GRP05021?fromGrid=1&search_params=p+1-n+10000-c+288177-s+5-r+201323340-t+-ni+1-x+-lr+0-hr+-ri+-mi+-pp+2067+4&search=0&origin=browse&searchkeyword=&trackpdp=bg&fromcid=288177#p+1-n+10000-c+288177-s+5-r+201323340-t+-ni+1-x+-pu+-f+false+1-lr+0-hr+-ri+-mi+-pp+2067%2B4) and the wedding rings are [here](http://www.tiffany.co.uk/jewelry/rings/tiffany-notes-i-love-you-band-ring-GRP03182?&fromGrid=1&search_params=p+1-n+10000-c+288177-s+5-r+201323340-t+-ni+1-x+-lr+0-hr+-ri+-mi+-pp+2067+4&search=0&origin=browse&searchkeyword=&trackpdp=bg&fromcid=288177#p+1-n+10000-c+288177-s+5-r+201323340-t+-ni+1-x+-pu+-f+false+2-lr+0-hr+-ri+-mi+-pp+2067%2B4) without the inscription. I know men don’t normally have engagement rings, but if it means I have an excuse to browse for jewellery, these two are getting them!  
> Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know if you did in the comments! I think there's going to be about 36 in total, so we're more than two thirds of the way there :) If any of you want to check out my tumblr, it's [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), and I hope you all have a lovely weekend!


	28. All Is Lost; Hope Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter :)

Stardate 2261.90. 1407 hours. KL interviewing HS.

This is my first solo encounter with Hikaru Sulu, and considering the preliminary reactions of a number of his crewmates, I am pleasantly surprised by his warm reception. Born to a sonographer and a classical violinist in San Francisco, Sulu had rarely ventured far from his home city before undertaking his required training placements during his study at the Academy, something that seems a long time ago to all I have spoken with. Quiet and thoughtful, he is evidently well-liked on the Enterprise, not least by Chekov, whom I have often seen Sulu watching with great affection.

So… you and Chekov?

_[A smile quirks his lips, and he nods evenly.]_

HS: Me and Pavel. It’s been that way for longer than Jim and Spock have been together, but we took a lot longer to admit it.

Why is that, do you think?

HS: I… didn’t want to take advantage. Pavel was younger than me, and I didn’t want to frighten him off. There was also the possibility that he didn’t want to be anything more than friends - I wanted him however I could have him, relationship or not. Fortunately, we weren’t as dire a case as Le- _[he coughs uncomfortably, averting his gaze]_ -as others, but Pavel was the one who plucked up the courage to say something.

_[I’m 99 percent sure I know exactly who he’s referring to, but I pretend to be ignorant, for his sake.]_

When you were on the Enterprise?

HS: Yeah. Quite a few people started up relationships, or became more serious about them, once we’d taken off. Spock and Jim got engaged pretty quickly – but then again, they were already Vulcan-married, and they had the kids… Point is, there was a shift in everyone when we took flight, and it was a good one.

Why do you think that was?

_[He shrugs, his expression saying ‘Isn’t it obvious?]_

HS: Up there, we could all breathe again. Sure, having actual full-time duties took some getting used to, but I’d have worked twenty hours a day if it meant us being safe. It was a huge weight off of all of us, knowing that we weren’t going to wake up and find that one of those creatures had eaten somebody we loved. For a while at least, everything was pretty peaceful.

So how did Pavel tell you how he felt?

_[Sulu smiles, a distant kind of fondness in his eyes.]_

HS: It was after our shift one evening. I barely understood what he was trying to say at first; he was so worked up. But then… _[a barely perceptible flush rises on his cheeks]_ Well, it was the best day I’d had in a long time, I’ll say that.

I bet it was. So, tell me about what you do on the Enterprise. You’re a pilot, yes?

HS: Sort of. I’m technically a helmsman, and Pavel’s a navigator, but our duties often merge. Engineering keeps us afloat, so to speak, and while Pavel generally plots and projects our course, I do most of the manoeuvring. In a lot of ways, Pavel’s job is more difficult than mine.

Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.

HS: _[shrugging]_ He’s a genius, is Pavel. He calculates things quicker than the computer a lot of times.

And that’s great, but without you, the Enterprise wouldn’t be going anywhere. You wouldn’t have got _here._

_[Sulu smiles bashfully, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.]_

HS: Pavel says the same. He always sees the good in everything. I’m grateful for that, and for him. He’s been there for me since the beginning.

* * *

Onboard the Enterprise, it would be easy to forget that an apocalypse had happened, but for three things. One: when you went to the observation deck, instead of stars, you could see only Terran sky, the spectrum of colour still beautiful, but not as beautiful as that of space. Two: there were a lot more civilians on board than usual, families in shock, children running around on the lower decks. A makeshift school had been set up, and those old enough were being trained in whatever discipline they were most useful in, but it was still a surprise to see so many out of uniform. And three: even if he had the equipment to do so - which Hikaru didn’t - there was nobody to call home to.

Pavel was his solace in all this uncertainty – had been since the beginning. When the Academy had fallen apart, they had clung together in fear and desperation, not knowing whether they would survive the next day, let alone long enough to make any serious plans for the future. Still, they had waited it out until Admiral Pike had returned, full of determination wrought from grief, the impetus for time – which had seemed to stagnate – to metaphorically unfreeze. Sometimes, when he was alone in the silence and space of his quarters, Hikaru couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like if Pike, or indeed, Jim’s group, had never come back. Perhaps he and Pavel might have survived, but at what cost? Recalling the ever-present fear that they might have been the only ones left, Hikaru shivered. Life was certainly a lot better than it had been.

He was on his way back from dinner, his stomach pleasantly full, and was looking forward to a nap before he met Pavel in the gardens. He hadn’t been sleeping very well in the two months that they’d been on the Enterprise, despite the security the ship afforded. Although he wasn’t certain, he suspected that it was because he was so used to having Pavel by his side. They might have been in neighbouring rooms, but Hikaru had become habituated to his quiet snoring and restless shifting, in itself a comfort enough to lull him to sleep.

As he exited the turbolift, Jim was jogging in the opposite direction, and he smiled sunnily at Hikaru as he passed.

‘All right, Sulu?’ he grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

‘Yeah, I’m good, thanks!’ Hikaru called, by which time the turbolift doors had already closed.

There had been some brief mutterings from some crewmembers about Captain Kirk’s rapid ascension to power, but Hikaru thought he deserved it. He commanded people’s attention in a way that was frankly awe-inspiring, a natural flair for leadership combined with an laidback personality going a long way to inspire respect in his subordinates. Besides, without Jim and Spock, who would have taken control when the Admiral couldn’t? Without them, Hikaru was sure that even more blood would have been spilled than there already had been.

Arriving at his quarters, he sleepily unlocked his door, and once inside, collapsed face-down on his bed. He knew that it probably wasn’t a good idea to fall asleep when he was getting up in an hour, but a little voice in his head was telling him to forget that logic, so he did. Spock would be ashamed.

‘Sorry, Spock,’ he muttered, toeing off his boots as he curled into a ball on top of the duvet.

Calling out to the computer, he triple-checked that the door was locked, before finally relaxing. The room was wonderfully warm, and as exhausted as he was, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, heavy limbs sinking into the mattress with unparalleled contentment.

_‘Karu?’_

Hikaru stirred, grunting in annoyance at the interruption. Fully prepared to go straight back to sleep, he buried his face further into his pillow, but found he couldn’t ignore the hand that was quite insistently shaking him.

‘Hikaru, wake up. It is not time for sleeping!’

_Pasha._

Hikaru rolled onto his back and blinked open bleary eyes, startled by the sight of Pavel’s face so close to his, _mouth_ so close to his… Shaking away his inappropriate desire, he clasped Pavel’s arm and sat up, immediately regretting his decision to have a nap.

‘Did I miss our d- our trip to the gardens?’ he asked tiredly, feeling Pavel’s bright grin in his chest.

‘No, but I came to get you early. It was lucky that I did, da?’

‘Mhmm,’ Hikaru smiled, gently backing him up so that he had the chance to stand. ‘God, I regret that nap.’

Pavel cocked his head to the side.

‘Why were you napping? You seem wery tired.’

‘I am,’ Hikaru admitted, stretching until he heard a pop in his back. ‘I’m just not sleeping very well, I guess.’

Pavel frowned, his nose crinkling adorably, and Hikaru was hard pressed not to lean forward and kiss it.

‘Why not?’ he demanded, straightening out Hikaru’s uniform shirt.

Hikaru shrugged, a blush stealing across his face.

‘I’m not sure, but maybe it’s because I’m on my own. I’ve been so used to sleeping around other people – you, mostly – and now-’

He held his hands up silently.

‘Well, that problem is easily solwed,’ Pavel replied, gesturing for him to follow him out. ‘You can stay with me!’

Hikaru’s heart skipped a beat, desperately trying to read too much into it as they entered the corridor.

‘With you?’

‘Yes. Or I can come to you?’

‘Either? Either is good. Thanks, Pav.’

‘No problem,’ Pavel chirped, letting him take the lead on the way to the gardens. ‘Anyway, I have not been sleeping well either.'

‘You haven’t?’ Hikaru asked softly, protectiveness swelling in his chest.

Pavel shook his head, following him into the turbolift.

‘Perhaps for the same reason,’ he said quietly, a shy smile curving his lips. ‘So it will be good for both of us, I think.’

Hikaru watched him surreptitiously on the way down, unable to tear his eyes away for too long. Pavel’s hair had grown a little since they had left the Academy, the curls not quite so tight, and his fingers itched to run through it. Sometimes, when they had lain beside one another in their dorm room, he had watched Pavel sleep with a longing he couldn’t quite contain. He had studied his relaxed, fine-featured face with affection so deep he could think of only one word to describe it, and now, his heart squeezed in exactly the same way. Pasha was beautiful – there was no denying it – and over time, Hikaru’s feelings for him had only strengthened. He hadn’t dared to dream of a future with him before they had got to the Enterprise, but now, he couldn’t help it. At night, he thought of them starting a relationship, of how soft his lips would be when they kissed, and sometimes even of them having a family like Jim and Spock did, yet the more he fell into that trap, the worse it felt when he woke. They weren’t together. They were just best friends, and if that’s the way it would be forever, Hikaru would just have to deal.

Pavel was oddly quiet as they approached the gardens. He was normally the first to start enthusiastically chatting away, the first to fill the silence when Hikaru didn’t know what to say, but now, he didn’t say a thing. It was unnerving, particularly when Hikaru clocked Pavel’s nervous expression, which was enough to make a shiver rattle up his spine.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked uncertainly, surprised by the too-wide smile that Pavel cast his way.

‘Yes, yes, I am fine. Are you fine?’

‘Yeah, I’m… fine,’ Hikaru replied slowly, noticing how Pavel wasn’t making eye contact.

‘Good, that’s good.’

Something was definitely wrong. Before he could ask what, though, Pavel strode off ahead and opened the doors to the gardens, pink-cheeked as he looked back at him.

‘Come on, Karu,’ he said insistently, beckoning him forth. ‘You are not normally slow.’

‘I’m tired,’ Hikaru sulked, but he sped up anyway, the combination of being with Pavel and the place they were visiting too exciting to ignore.

As he stepped through the doors, hearing the soft pneumatic hiss as they closed behind him, he took a moment to look at what was in front of him. The gardens were Hikaru’s pride and joy. Botany was his passion, and when he’d been shown the original schematics of the ship, he’d begged Jim to let him do something with the space. Of course, if one only considered the essentials, the gardens didn’t need to exist – with food provided by the replicators, and oxygen provided by the life support system – but Jim had agreed that they would be a morale booster nonetheless. With help from Pavel, and a few like-minded botany nerds, Hikaru had transformed the space, asking Engineering to make the existing sprinkler system automatic so that the plants wouldn’t be without water if someone forgot to come down. After two months of careful cultivation, fresh vegetables were growing under the simulated sunlight, and some of the flowers were beginning to bloom, pansies and larkspurs and morning glories bringing colour to the silver and grey that surrounded them.

Pavel, who had been leading him through the room, came to a stop beside the nasturtiums, blooming red and gold. His hands were shaking as they fisted in his sleeves.

‘Pasha, what’s the matter?’ he asked gently, sliding a hand down his stiff arm.

Pavel gave him a quick, painful smile.

‘Nothing is wrong, I… I would just like to talk to you.’

‘Of course,’ Hikaru replied, a breathless laugh escaping him. ‘You can talk to me about _anything,_ you know that.’

As Pavel nodded, his trembling seemed to increase, a quiet slew of Russian leaving his lips. Hikaru watched him worriedly, letting his hand fall away with reluctance.

‘I am sorry if this disgusts you,’ Pavel said hoarsely, looking up at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, ‘but I cannot ignore how I feel anymore.’

Was this real? Even as irrepressible hope rose within, nerves rose beside it, Hikaru’s heart pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear its beat.

‘I-I…’ Pavel faltered, flushing brightly. _‘IlikeyouKaru.’_

Hikaru was sure that his face was as red as Pavel’s. Maybe he was just hearing what he wanted to.

‘You-?’

‘I like you,’ Pavel blurted, more slowly than before, but no less shyly. ‘A lot. More than friends, Karu.’

Happiness bloomed in Hikaru as brightly as the flowers beside them. Before Pavel could panic and backtrack, he took hold of his hands, uncurling them from his sleeves, and stroked his thumbs over his soft skin.

‘I like you a lot too,’ he said tenderly, not bothering to contain his shaky breath. His heart skipped a beat as Pavel’s fingers squeezed his, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. ‘Pasha, I can’t believe… how long?’

Pavel’s smile widened, separating their hands to snake them around his waist.

‘Years. Since before any of this.’

Breathless laughter bubbled from his lips in an exclamation of disbelief that Hikaru felt compelled to mimic, wondering if he’d woken up before at all.

‘This is crazy,’ he breathed, running his hands up Pavel’s arms to cradle his face. ‘It’s been forever for me too. Can I- can I kiss you?’

Pavel’s cheeks were decidedly rosy, but he nodded nonetheless, tilting his chin up expectantly as his hands pressed against the flat of Hikaru’s back. Hikaru’s eyes fell closed as he leant down to kiss him sweetly, a quiet, tremulous breath escaping Pavel right before their lips met. The kiss was slow, and soft, and slightly clumsy, Pavel’s inexperience clear despite his obvious enthusiasm, but that didn’t matter to Hikaru. He guided Pavel as best he could, gentling his movements when they grew too frenzied, stroking rhythmically over his cheekbones, and for all its faults, it was the most beautiful kiss he’d ever had.

They parted when Pavel gasped for breath, having apparently misjudged how much air he would need, and immediately flushed pink up to his ears.

‘I’m sorry if it was bad,’ he said shyly, fingers curling in the fabric over Hikaru’s hips. ‘I don’t really know what I am doing. At all.’

‘It was amazing,’ Hikaru replied honestly, an unprecedented lightness in his chest. ‘You’re amazing, Pasha.’

Pavel’s flush deepened, and he pushed his face into Hikaru’s chest, throwing his arms around him. Laughing softly, Hikaru pulled him tightly against him, resting his cheek upon the top of his head.

‘You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.’

‘I do,’ Pavel protested, his voice muffled. ‘It is the same for me.’

Humming contentedly, Hikaru kissed the top of his head before drawing back to press a longer kiss to his lips. His heart was still fluttering, part of him still wondering whether this was a waking dream, something he had conjured up to ease his longing. Yet Pavel’s mouth was warm and soft beneath his own, and he fit perfectly within Hikaru’s arms, a tangible, wonderful reminder that this was _real._ This time when they parted, it was Hikaru’s doing, his hands lingering on Pavel’s back as he moved away slightly, eyes wide and expressive.

‘Want to take a look at the flowers?’

Pavel’s hand slipped into his own decidedly clammy palm as they walked through the gardens, Hikaru pointing out everything that had begun to grow around them. Pride bloomed in his chest as keenly as the flowers when he looked at how much they had achieved in two short months, his great passion having become something that all of the crew could share in if they so wished. Pride, however, was nothing compared to the blinding happiness he felt with Pavel’s hand in his, giddy with the innocence of it all. To think that millions – billions, even – had died, yet he was still there to have his feelings reciprocated; it was incredible. He could have lost Pavel a thousand times, in any one of the desperate situations they had been a part of, but he hadn’t. It was nothing short of miraculous in Hikaru’s mind. There were many people whom he had to thank for their survival, people who were living without their own loved ones, and having known the all-consuming grief of losing his family, Hikaru wasn’t about to let Pavel go.

‘They are wery pretty,’ Pavel told him, tracing his finger over an alyssum petal. ‘It’s amazing how you managed to grow them all so quickly.’

Even as his face heated, Hikaru’s heart fluttered at the praise. Man, he was in deep.

‘Thank you,’ he smiled, running his thumb along the side of Pavel’s, ‘but it wasn’t all me.’

Whether Pavel was only humouring him or not, he seemed to like the alyssums, which also happened to be one of his own favourites. He wouldn’t pick any – he never did – but perhaps Pavel would like a plant or two in his room to nurture. While Hikaru mused, they had carried on walking, and he was more than a little disappointed to find that they were back where they started when Pavel spoke.

‘Can we go to the observation deck, Karu?’ he asked shyly, moving closer until their shoulders touched. ‘There will be a thunderstorm above Argentina tonight.’

He’d smiled so much that evening that his cheeks were beginning to hurt, but Hikaru couldn’t repress another, pressing his lips against Pavel’s temple.

‘Of course we can.’

Pavel squeezed Hikaru’s bicep with his free hand, leaning briefly against his shoulder before leading him to the doors. As they stepped through into the corridor, Hikaru reluctantly prepared to separate their hands, but he was too late. Although they quickly drew apart, Uhura had already rounded the corner and seen them, her eyes alighting with mischief.

‘I knew it!’ she crowed, grinning widely.

Tucking her padd against her chest, she gestured excitedly at their recently joined hands and skimmed her own down Pavel’s arm as she skipped off down the corridor.

‘Don’t worry, boys, I’ll keep it quiet!’

‘Thanks!’ Hikaru called after her, before turning to Pavel. ‘Not that I don’t want people to know or anything, but it’d be nice to have a little privacy.’

‘I agree,’ Pavel said softly, beckoning him on, ‘but I think that people will find out anyway.’

Hikaru nodded, letting him take the lead.

‘There’s not much else to do off-duty but talk about each other, I guess.’

Although they were no longer holding hands, being interrupted almost constantly by other crewmembers, they walked so closely together that the backs of their fingers often brushed. Hikaru found himself repeatedly distracted by that whisper of contact, his focus much more on the touch of their hands than on their journey, and as such, he was surprised to find himself so quickly before the doors to the observation deck.

‘Go on,’ Pavel nudged, smiling gently as he bumped Hikaru’s shoulder.

He pressed the door release and entered the low-lit deck, stopping so abruptly when he saw two figures by the glass that Pavel walked into his back. Jim and Spock were already there, holding a child each, so close that their arms touched from shoulder to elbow. At the sound of the door opening, Jim turned, revealing Theo sleeping in his arms, mouth open and chubby limbs lying limp.

‘Hey,’ he said in a stage whisper, and Liora squirmed in Spock’s hold, twisting round to look sleepily at them. ‘You all right?’

Hikaru nodded.

‘We can- we can leave, it’s fine.’

‘You do not need to,’ Spock interjected. ‘We will be leaving relatively soon. The children require rest.’

Hikaru cocked his head at Pavel, who shrugged slightly, and as they stepped further into the room, Liora reached out for them.

‘Hello, myshka,’ Pavel crooned, hurrying forwards to take her from Spock when he held her out. ‘It is almost time for sleep, hmm?’

She rubbed her eye with her fist as Pavel rocked her on his hip, Spock and Jim watching on with the same friendly caution as they ever had.

‘You come here to see the storm?’ Jim asked, leaning into his fiancé.

‘Da. If we cannot quite see the stars, at least there will be something to watch.’

Jim smiled, the curve of his mouth barely visible in the light, but there nonetheless.

‘This is all I can offer you right now. Maybe one day, though.’

‘You know, I never really thanked you,’ Hikaru interjected, as Pavel passed Liora back over. ‘Either of you. It’s been playing on my mind for a while.’

‘For what?’ Spock asked, wrapping Liora’s blanket more tightly around her as she lolled against him.

‘Are you kidding? No, I don’t suppose you are. For getting us here. For getting us _all_ here, away from the danger down there.’

‘That wasn’t just on us,’ Jim insisted. ‘Even if we’d never arrived, Chris and you guys would have managed.’

‘Not as well as we did- look, guys, just _thank you,_ all right?’

‘You are welcome,’ Spock replied, eyebrow hiked up. ‘However, you both also contributed considerably to the survival of the crew.’

‘Thank you for saying so,’ Pavel smiled, just as Hikaru muttered his own thanks.

With that one conversation, yet another burden had been lifted from Hikaru’s chest. He wanted to persist, to impress on the both of them how much they had truly been pivotal in saving the lives of so many, but before he could continue, he was interrupted. Theo whimpered pitifully, little fists balling as he stirred, and Hikaru’s heart wrenched.

‘Shhhh,’ Jim cooed, rocking him slowly. ‘Shhhh, baby.’

Spock pulled up the tiny sock that was hanging off Theo’s foot, then smoothed a hand over Liora’s back, and although the expression on his face was indecipherable to Hikaru, he knew that Spock was just as enamoured with his children as Jim was. Before any of this, Hikaru had been relatively indifferent about kids, and the possibility of having his own had seemed a decision to be made in the far future. Watching them now, though, Hikaru ached for that kind of love, despite knowing that it wasn’t a possibility at the moment. They were hardly likely to discover more orphaned children, even if they returned to Earth at some point, and while carrier tech existed, it was a) completely unavailable at the moment, and b) something that would probably send Pavel running for the hills if he mentioned it so early. Still, he could daydream.

‘We’re going to put the kids to bed,’ Jim said quietly, Theo still fussing a little in his arms. ‘So you two can have the place to yourselves. Congratulations, by the way.’

He grinned, and Hikaru, startled by the fact that he knew, tipped his head in response.

‘How did you-’

‘Well, it was only a matter of time. And nobody stands that close together unless they’re in a relationship.’

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, the effect marred only slightly by the baby draped across his chest.

‘Spasiba,’ Pavel murmured, his cheeks glowing. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’re just glad you’re happy,’ Jim continued, exchanging a look with Spock, eyes soft. ‘We gotta go. Enjoy the storm, guys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

‘We won’t do most of the things you _would,’_ Hikaru snorted, earning a flick to his ear as Jim went past, Spock following close behind.

‘Shame. See you in the morning.’

They echoed his goodbye, and Hikaru watched them leave before turning back to Pavel, itching to touch him again.

‘Want to sit down?’

‘Yes,’ Pavel beamed, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him towards the glass.

He dropped cross-legged onto the floor, half-dragging Hikaru down with him, and stared rapturously out at the thick, grey clouds that were forming. Charmed far more by his new paramour than by the weather outside, Hikaru sat beside him and watched the awe on his face with a flutter in his chest. Now that he was allowing himself to feel anything more than friendship for Pavel, it was difficult not to express it. He didn’t want to come on too strong, didn’t want to scare him off, but he couldn’t help but rest a hand on his knee, stroking his thumb over his patella.

‘My parents didn’t want me to go away,’ Pavel said quietly, as the skies darkened before them. ‘When I told them that I was going to the Academy so young, my mother cried for days. She begged me to wait a year or two, but I wanted to be in space so badly. If I had waited, maybe- maybe I could have helped them. I don’t know if they’re even alive.’

‘Oh, Pasha.’ Hikaru wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed gently. ‘If you’d stayed, you might have been gone right now. And I might not have known you, but that would have been a great loss to the world. Anyway – who knows – one day when this is all over, they might still be alive, and think about how grateful they’ll be that you entered Starfleet then.’

Pavel remained silent, but his head dropped slowly to Hikaru’s shoulder, resting heavily upon him. As flashes of lightning began illuminating the deck, Hikaru kissed his crown, closing his eyes against the blinding light. He briefly thought about his own parents, about how loving and kind they had been, and how he had called them every week at his mother’s behest. It wasn’t often that he let himself remember, because of the terrible ache in his chest that he felt when he did, but occasionally, he allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe they’d survived in France. They were staying in a pretty rural area, and they weren’t the running type. Still… what were the odds? Consciously shifting his attention to Pavel – lovely, caring, _beautiful_ Pavel – Hikaru decided to concentrate on the good in his life. Tonight, he’d been given an opportunity he’d never dreamed he would have, and that was more than enough for him.

Over time, Pavel’s posture had slipped, his head resting more heavily on his shoulder, and without finding a chrono, Hikaru knew it was time to leave.

‘You tired?’ he asked softly, his limbs carrying the weight of his own exhaustion.

‘Mhmm.’

He lifted his head, so slowly that Hikaru knew it was an effort, hooded eyes meeting his. Hikaru couldn’t resist leaning in for a kiss, short and sweet, before getting to his feet, and helping Pavel to his.

‘Want me to take you back to your room?’

‘I… I thought we were…’ Pavel trailed off, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around himself. ‘Newer mind.’

‘No, no, you want to sleep in my room?’ Hikaru asked hurriedly, resting a hand against the small of his back. ‘That’s what I want too, but I didn’t want to push.’

‘I would like that,’ Pavel smiled, following him towards the doors. ‘Maybe we will both sleep better tonight.’

Hikaru made sure not to paw at him as they walked back to his room, keeping a little distance between them so that the gossipmongers of the Enterprise wouldn’t be all over them the next day. Once inside, he gave Pavel some of his clothes to sleep in, politely offering him the bathroom to change. They were a little big on him – the hemline of his baggy pants reaching the floor, which was adorable – but they fitted well enough to do for the night.

When they were both dressed, Hikaru went around the room tidying things away while Pavel sat on the bed watching him, knees drawn up to his chest and his chin resting upon them. He looked young like that, but then, Hikaru supposed he was. Pretty blue-green eyes met his as he approached, tired but contented, and he carded a hand through Pavel’s hair affectionately.

‘Scooch over,’ he said softly.

Pavel uncoiled himself and moved over to the other side of the bed, crawling beneath the duvet. Following suit, Hikaru pulled the bedclothes up over them, calling the lights low. They were nose to nose, and he didn’t quite know where to put his hands, but he tried his best, gently cradling Pavel within his arms as he leant in for a kiss. It was soft and unhurried, their lips sliding together with far more emotion than desire, and when they drew apart, Hikaru couldn’t resist pressing a few light butterfly kisses against his pliant lips before pulling back entirely.

‘I hope-’ Pavel’s voice was quiet as he broke the silence, shifting closer. ‘I hope my little nieces and nephews are alive. They’re only babies; some of them are Theo’s age.’

‘I’m sure they will be,’ Hikaru replied softly, whether he believed it or not. ‘Maybe you’ll have even more when you see them again.’

‘Hopefully,’ Pavel whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the bare skin above the stretched collar of his faded t-shirt.

He cuddled closer to Hikaru, one hand curling in his shirt and a leg slipping between his as he made himself comfortable. Overcome with affection so deep that it almost bore another name, Hikaru held him tightly, resting his cheek against Pavel’s soft hair.

‘Night, sweetie,’ he whispered, daring to say aloud what he had wanted to call him for a long time.

Pavel shivered very slightly, and he doubted it had little to do with cold.

‘Goodnight, cердце моё.’

Hikaru didn’t know what that meant, but he figured he’d ask in the morning. As Pavel’s breathing evened out, his grip on Hikaru as warm as the feelings he had so recently expressed, Hikaru had a newfound hope in his heart. Yes, they were damaged – they were _all_ damaged, there was no denying that – but they weren’t broken. They could still love, and perhaps, in this new beloved place of safety, there was a chance of some form of happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I've been trying to get in a chapter with Sulu for ages, and I'm glad I've finally found the right place for it :D Chulu are so cute together, don't you think? I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter anyway, and please let me know in the comments if you did! I love reading them, and I'm grateful for every one! I'm going away to Italy for a week soon, so I won't be able to get much writing done for the next chapter, but seeing as I've frenziedly wrote ahead in anticipation, we'll see how I get on updating in two weeks.
> 
> If you guys fancy checking out my tumblr, I'm over [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), and I hope you all enjoy your weekend :)


	29. Rattle The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I've been planning this chapter for an eternity! Hope you all enjoy :D

Stardate 2261.91. 0836 hours. KL interviewing STS.

I am only expecting Spock this morning, but when the door opens, he walks in with Theo in his arms, and Jim and Liora trailing behind him, the little girl’s hand clutching tight to her father’s. _‘All right, princess,’_ Jim says, kneeling beside her. _‘Sa-mekh has got one of his interviews now, so he’s going to be in here with Theo, but you can come with me, okay?’_ It’s only now that I notice her face is tear-stained, and she looks uncertainly between the two of them. The last week has obviously taken its toll. Spock bends down and lifts her quite easily in his other arm, whispering something I cannot hear into her ear before rocking her soothingly, his lips touching her temple. He presses two fingers to her cheek as he hands her over, Jim leaning over to kiss Theo and Spock in quick succession before he and Liora leave with a wave in my direction. Spock’s expression is – as usual – unreadable when he sits down. He allows Theo to toddle off a bit with some educational game on his padd, but even as we speak, his eyes flick repeatedly back to his son.

Things still pretty rough?

_[Spock nods stiffly, nostrils flaring. There is a surprising hint of acid in his voice for somebody so habitually cool.]_

STS: My daughter is extremely upset at the moment, which is unacceptable. She fears the loss of another set of parents, and we are struggling to convince her of the fact that she will not be taken away. _[His jaw sets, whitened lips barely moving as he speaks.]_ I do _not_ appreciate anyone triggering the return of her trauma symptoms.

No, I imagine you don’t. What about Theo?

_[He watches his son carefully as he wanders towards the door, then around the perimeter of the room, aimless.]_

STS: Theodore is unaware of the false claims made against our family, but he is perceptive enough to know that there is an issue with his sister, and that is adversely affecting him. He has begun to wet the bed more often, and is resisting being away from us more than usual, which is perturbing.

Oh dear. Has there been any progress in dealing with those who have essentially threatened you?

STS: There is still some difficulty with the communications network, so I cannot yet brief my clan, but rest assured that neither Jim nor I would allow the children to be taken from us. _[He lowers his voice, sitting straighter in his chair.]_ However, Jim does have a plan to resolve the situation.

_[‘Pan!’ Theo chirps, little hands coming to rest on his father’s thigh._

_There is something vaguely green beginning to dribble down his philtrum, and Spock draws a handkerchief expressionlessly from his pocket._

_‘‘Plan’,’ he corrects patiently, wiping his nose. ‘’Plan’, Theodore.’_

_‘Pan, pan, pan,’ Theo sings, raising his arms, and Spock lifts him onto his lap with an arm as sturdily in place as a rollercoaster barrier, turning his attention back to me.]_

A plan?

STS: Yes. We cannot discuss it at the moment.

Fair enough. There’s something rather happier I wanted to talk to you about, though.

_[He raises an eyebrow, holding Theo to him, who is engrossed in the padd once more.]_

I believe that you and Jim got married once you were aboard the ship.

STS: Yes. We were married in the human way, that is.

Something positive to come out of it all.

_[Spock nods, a softness in his brow.]_

STS: Planning and executing the event was certainly uplifting for many crewmembers. For Jim and I, it was another way to solidify our relationship. _[He sweeps Theo’s long hair back from his face absently.]_ An act long overdue.

* * *

Although both Spock and Jim had desired their wedding to be a somewhat quiet and unlavish affair, capable of being organised rather quickly, there had been a number of unavoidable delays. Once their engagement had been announced, various crewmembers had insisted upon making preparations. With the emphasis still on privacy, Jim had welcomed their input, and if that was what Jim desired, he would gratefully acquiesce. His mother and Nyota had taken charge of the ceremony itself, enlisting the help of an ordained Lieutenant and a former interior designer in their planning, whilst Lieutenant Sulu had produced flower arrangements, and a group of musicians would soon be using what instruments they could scrape together to provide music for their ‘first dance’ – a tradition which Jim insisted was wholly unavoidable. In addition, the quartermaster had made tailored three-piece suits for both of them – his in navy blue, Jim’s in a rather striking grey – which had delayed them further. Still, it was worth it to see Jim’s expression upon their reveal, at once awed and disbelieving.

The children were similarly provided for, although neither had at first seemed particularly excited about their new attire, unlike about the few presents they had received two point five seven months before. They had recently turned one and three, their birthdays estimated to be at a similar time, and thus were celebrated on the same day. Jim had made a fuss of them, and Spock could not resist doing so more subtly, taking pleasure in the outright glee they had shown in being showered with such attention. Thus, with all the preparations, and the rather more satisfying distraction that was their children, it was a full three months since his proposal that Spock found himself dressing for their wedding, being continually poked and prodded by his mother.

‘This isn’t sitting quite right,’ she frowned, fiddling with his collar. ‘Just let me… _there_ we are.’

In the mirror before him, Spock could see no difference, but he remained silent. To speak his mind would be a waste of oxygen.

‘He looks fine, Amanda,’ Nyota said warmly, casting him an admiring glance in the mirror as she came up beside him. ‘Qaral did a great job with the tailoring, didn’t he?’

Amanda hummed in agreement, and though Spock did not reply, he silently conceded that the suit had been expertly crafted.

‘Nervous, Spock?’

Spock’s eyebrow began to climb, and Nyota snorted.

‘Yeah, all right. We’ll both pretend you’re not.’

Spock was _not_ nervous. He was, however, rather excited, the prospect of being soon tied to Jim in yet another way affecting his heartrate and breathing pattern quite significantly.

‘I can’t believe my little boy is getting married,’ Amanda sniffled, wiping at her eyes. She had at last ceased adjusting his clothing, and had moved on to her own. ‘You know, human-married.’

‘There has been little opportunity for celebration recently,’ Spock reminded her, careful not to crease his trousers as he perched upon his mother’s bed.

Nyota huffed out an amused breath, combing her hand through his hair.

‘You’d have had to have your wedding night in the RV, and I don’t think that would’ve gone down to well with Leonard.’

‘Or me,’ Amanda said absently, and Spock fought the flush that he knew was surely rising on his cheeks.

‘That will not be an issue,’ he muttered, careful not to look either in the eye.

When there were footsteps in the corridor, though, his head snapped right back up. Hopeful though he might have been, he knew immediately that it wasn’t Jim, his gait distinctive and familiar. They had been parted the moment they had left their quarters that morning, in adherence with human tradition, and having so rarely been parted from him for a significant period of time, Spock missed him greatly. More so, considering that they had agreed not to converse through the bond except in exceptional circumstances until the ceremony – an agreement which Spock was struggling to keep.

Despite his discomfort with their separation, a squeal of laughter from outside the room lifted his spirits, undoubtedly originating from Theodore. He rose to open the door, finding Leonard there with his fist raised to knock, slightly less sour-faced than usual.

‘That’s some freaky hearing you got there, Spock,’ he drawled, as Liora ran out from behind his legs.

Not deigning to answer, Spock swept her into his arms, taking Theodore from Lewinsky when he entered behind Leonard. He held both children tightly to him, ignoring Nyota’s protestations about the state of his groomswear, and kissed each in turn, warmth blooming in his chest as they burrowed into him. Both were babbling – Theodore’s speech largely consisting of ‘Sa-meh’ and ‘Dada’ – and he tried his best to respond as diligently as possible, despite being verbally assaulted on both sides.

‘My dwess is pwetty, do-do you like it, Sa-mekh?’

‘I do, little one,’ Spock replied, awkwardly smoothing down the fabric of the skirt using the hand of the arm with which he was holding her. ‘It suits you.’

‘Nana’s dwess is pwetty too, an’ Nyota’s dwess, an’ your… your-’

‘This is a suit, ko-fu,’ Spock explained, bouncing Theodore a little when he grizzled. ‘Daddy and I are getting married today.’

‘Yay!’

‘Can I have a cuddle?’ his mother asked, holding her arms out, and Liora all but leapt into them, leaving Spock holding only his son. Theodore was similarly dressed up, and when Spock tugged his little shirt down, he giggled uncontrollably, the sound making it very difficult for Spock to suppress a smile. He knew that there was much less danger on the Enterprise, but despite that being absolute fact, he was often reluctant to put the baby down, the residual fear of the past year still holding power over him. Still, when Theodore squirmed to be put down, he allowed it, watching him intently as he toddled drunkenly over to Nyota. As he watched, Leonard approached him, seeming particularly uncomfortable in the high collar of his shirt.

‘Jim gave me somethin’ for you,’ he muttered, passing over a folded piece of paper which had been previously concealed within his hand. ‘Should’ve refused to give it to you. I’m a doctor, not a giggly schoolgirl.’

Spock ignored him in favour of unfolding the paper, the text within sending a flush of heat through him, warming the tips of his ears.

_I can’t wait to see you in that suit. I can’t wait to take it off either._

‘God, I don’t want to know,’ Leonard growled, expression contorted with disgust.

When Spock looked up to respond, he noticed that Theodore was now with Lewinsky, Nyota conspicuously absent. He quickly re-folded the note as she appeared at his shoulder, enduring her displeased pout with a distinct lack of sympathy.

‘Aww, come on, what does it say?’

‘Nothing that is of import to you,’ he told her, slotting the note into an inside pocket. ‘Thank you for delivering the note, and my children, Leonard.’

‘You’re welcome I guess,’ Leonard replied, tearing his eyes away from Lewinsky for long enough to meet his own. ‘Won’t be long now, huh?’

‘Yes,’ Spock confirmed, taking hold of his son as Lewinsky handed him back.

The ceremony was due to start in twenty one minutes, and he was to be the first there. Briefly breaking their vow of silence, he addressed Jim tenderly.

_I cannot wait either, my James._

The only response was a soft wave of love flowing into through the bond, before Jim settled once more, his consciousness undeniably there, but not quite so present in Spock’s mind. Although he knew it to be tradition, Spock was not particularly keen on this requirement of their wedding day.

Theodore fussed in his arms as he tried to gain some attention, and Spock hushed him gently, tickling him beneath the chin. He squealed and kicked, his previous grumbling lost beneath the sound of contagious laughter, and Spock felt a kind of affection which was uniquely inspired by his children, contentment that was bone-deep. His son was growing quickly – both of his children were – but he was young yet.

‘Are you ready to go, kan-bu?’

Spock’s mother interrupted his train of thought with a gentle nudge, Liora’s hand within her own. Unable to suppress the tiniest smile, Spock inclined his head, gesturing for her to lead the way.

‘We’re going to go back to Jim, all right?’ Leonard said quietly, unexpectedly clapping him on the shoulder. His expression had relaxed into something that might almost be considered friendly. ‘See you later.’

‘Yes,’ Spock replied, shocked by the lack of a scowl.

Leonard’s lips twitched, an unwilling tell of amusement, and guided Lewinsky from the room. The younger man’s eyes lingered on his face in the worshipful way that Jim’s often lingered on his own, and Spock watched them contemplatively. They certainly seemed compatible, and perhaps Leonard’s mood would improve if he were to find happiness in a relationship. Still, now was not the time to reflect upon that; he would not be late for his t’hy’la.

His mother had swept Liora up in her arms in order to hurry things along, and he followed her down the corridor, Theodore clutching tightly at the lapel of his suit jacket. The ceremony was to be performed in one of the recreation rooms, and involved only their closest acquaintances. Spock received many smiles, and excitable greetings, and, unused to the intensity of such attentions, he nodded awkwardly back, relying on Nyota beside him to respond more fully.

He felt Jim’s excitement build as he reached the recreation room, and his own along with it, his heart fluttering at the thought of them being joined once more, in front of those about whom they cared the most. The room had been hastily decorated so as not to interfere too drastically with the crew’s recreation time, but Spock still thought the adornments to be tasteful, white and blue – the colour scheme suggested by Nyota – throughout. Inside, the majority of their guests were already seated, Ensign Chekov waving enthusiastically as they entered. Spock approached he and Lieutenant Sulu, gently disentangling Theodore’s fingers, and stroking his thumb over them to soothe him.

‘Good afternoon. Ensign, would you be so kind as to take care of Theodore for the duration of the ceremony? My mother already has my daughter, and it will be difficult for her to retain control of both of them.’

Chekov was nodding eagerly midway through his first question, already holding his arms out.

‘Of course, Commander,’ he beamed, taking the baby from him, and sitting him on his lap. ‘It is newer trouble to look after the children.’

‘Thank you,’ Spock replied, pressing a Vulcan kiss to his child’s cheek as he withdrew.

Theodore stretched after him for a moment, the tone of his babbling becoming plaintive, but then the Ensign distracted him with a game of peekaboo, which allowed Spock to make his escape. He guided his mother to sit in the front row of chairs, lifting Liora into a chair beside her and crouching in front of his daughter.

‘Sweet one, you must be quiet for now,’ he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘Do you understand?’

She nodded, pushing her finger clumsily against her smiling mouth.

‘Good girl,’ Spock cooed, getting to his feet. ‘Thank you, mother.’

Amanda’s own smile widened, her eyes tearful already.

‘You’re very welcome, darling. Now, go on, Jim will be here soon.’

Spock inclined his head, his stomach fizzing as he approached the Ensign who was acting as the officiator, a San Francisco native by the name of Alexis Daniels. She regarded him with a friendly expression as he came to the front of the room, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Most definitely,’ Spock replied, watching the final few guests settle in, his heart quickening.

‘Great. The Captain shouldn’t be long.’

Leonard gave Spock a significant look as he slipped through the doors and came up to the front, the rings presumably clutched in the hand he had raised.

‘Jim’s comin’,’ he said breathlessly, settling into place near to where Jim would soon be.

The room had fallen silent now, and as the doors opened once more, everybody turned to face the back. When he saw his t’hy’la, Spock was mesmerised. Jim and Christopher entered side-by-side, their pace slow to accommodate Christopher’s prosthetic, and Jim flushed pink at all the attention he was receiving. He was immaculate, his suit tailored to perfection, and his eyes locked on Spock’s as if there were only the two of them in the entire universe. He was beautiful. Spock watched him approach with such joy filling his heart that he was sure that some of it was spilling into his expression, and for once, he did not care.

‘Dada!’ Theodore squealed, his voice carrying in the quiet room, followed by a general murmur of laughter.

Jim’s smile widened beatifically, touching their son’s hand as he passed, and when he drew level with Spock, the barriers he had been shown how to erect fell completely.

_You look incredible,_ he said shakily, and Spock itched to touch him, to take him into his arms.

_So do you, ashayam,_ he replied, inner voice saturated with all the tenderness he felt for him. _Are you ready?_

_Beyond ready._

Spock nodded to Ensign Daniels, who took the cue with a wide smile, beginning thusly:

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…’

The ceremony itself was rather short as per their request, both less interested in the formality of it all than in the symbolism of commitment, the human equivalent of the bond they already shared. Jim had beamed throughout, eyes shining, and when Leonard handed them the rings, he blinked hard, eyelashes wet. His hand trembled as he took Spock’s own in his, and slid the ring upon his finger.

With this ring I thee wed,’ he choked, gently stroking Spock’s palm with his fingers as he drew his hand back, ‘with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.’

Spock repeated the vows with no less reverence, sliding Jim’s wedding ring up against that which he had already given to him, feeling a thrill of satisfaction as it fit perfectly into place. At the pronouncement of their marriage, Jim’s rush of joy mirrored his own perfectly, his smile so wide that Spock was certain it would be hurting his cheeks. Jim extended two fingers, and Spock met them with his own, a sudden, ecstatic compulsion driving him to lean forwards and press their mouths together. He barely heard the cheers and whistles of the crowd, the entirety of his attention on his new husband, whose lips moved gently against his own.

_I love you so much,_ Jim murmured, his eyes opening slowly a moment or two after they parted.

Spock watched their contented reveal with a low pulse of arousal, which he knew Jim had immediately picked up on, judging by the knowing look he received.

_And I you, beloved,_ he said softly, pretending to be oblivious to his amusement. _Now I believe our presence is required at our ‘reception’._

Jim hummed in agreement, kissing him once more before turning to their guests, lacing their fingers together in a way that made it difficult for Spock to concentrate. Across the room, Leonard’s expression filled with horror, eyes fixing with disbelief on the entwinement of their hands, and Spock felt an entirely new type of satisfaction.

They had been reunited with the children at dinner, both of them evidently excited to see their parents, but more so to be allowed to consume cake, most of which had covered their clothing by the end of the meal. Afterwards, they were briefly in the care of others, as Nyota insisted that they follow human tradition with a first dance. The few accomplished musicians whom called the Enterprise home had brought together what instruments they owned, and as he and Jim became surrounded by a circle of onlookers, they began to play an unfamiliar piece of music. Spock was rarely comfortable with such attention, but he found that with Jim, it was no longer a problem. They wrapped their arms around one another, Spock’s eyes closing as they swayed together, nuzzling into Jim’s temple and inhaling his sweet smell.

‘You know, if I’d met you before all this, I’d have found the sappiest, most disgustingly sweet song in the entire universe, and made you dance with me to it.’

Jim’s smile was impish as Spock pulled back slightly, just enough to show him the eyebrow that was raised in incredulity.

‘You may have tried.’

‘Oh, baby,’ Jim purred, leaning in close. He kissed the corner of Spock’s mouth, lips lingering as he breathed against him. ‘You know I’d have won.’

‘Perhaps,’ Spock conceded, desire for his bondmate beginning to burn low in his stomach.

As they danced, other couples began to spill out onto the floor, including – to Jim’s obvious delight – a rather red-faced Leonard with Lewinsky. Jim later took a turn dancing with each of the children, although Theodore did not seem to particularly enjoy it, his fatigue so acute that he briefly fell asleep in Spock’s arms amidst the chaos. Throughout the afternoon, Jim deliberately teased Spock, kissing him at every opportunity, breathing over the tips of his ears when he sat, and on one occasion, dragging his fingertips over the front of his trousers, his arousal (and frustration) growing with every casual touch. Thus, he did not object in the slightest when Jim suggested that they leave, snatching his bewildered daughter from the arms of a rather more amused Nyota.

‘Have a good night, boys,’ she laughed as they left, following behind Leonard and Lewinsky. They each carried one of the children, who were falling asleep despite the noise.

‘Oh we will,’ Jim grinned, earning a punch on the arm from Leonard. ‘Don’t you worry!’

‘I don’t want to hear anythin’ about tonight, you hear me?’

‘Yes, Bonesy,’ Jim sing-songed, hooded eyes sliding repeatedly back to Spock, the heat in them adding to that which was already pooled in Spock’s stomach.

‘Good.’

They said goodnight to Lewinsky outside his quarters, conveniently located next to Leonard’s, the length of time for which the two regarded one another before they parted rivalling he and Jim. Once the door had closed behind Lewinsky, he could tell that Jim wished to say something, but apparently so could Leonard, judging by the way he gritted his teeth.

‘Not a word,’ he growled, leading them into his quarters.

‘One day you’ll come to your senses,’ Jim sighed, wandering over to the crib that had already been set up. Spock followed him, holding Liora in one arm as he cradled the back of Theodore’s head to kiss his darkening hair, affection welling within him. Jim followed suit, lowering him into the crib, before they tucked Liora into her temporary bed, Spock’s hand lingering on her wild hair as he smoothed it away from her face.

‘Night, angels,’ Jim whispered, checking on their son once more. ‘Daddy and Sa-mekh love you.’

‘I’ll look after them, Jim. Don’t worry.’

‘I know you will.’ Jim’s smile faded a little. ‘It’s just… you know I don’t like being apart from them.’

‘Yeah, well, tonight you have to be,’ Leonard said matter-of-factly. ‘You can come and pick them up tomorrow. Lord knows, I’m not risking my mental health by coming to you. Now, go.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Jim grinned, one hand lifting in a sardonic salute as the other took Spock’s once more. ‘See you later, Bones!’

‘Yeah, kid.’

As they left Leonard’s quarters, Spock allowed the desire he had been repressing to come to the forefront of his mind, the great swell of it reaching Jim, and eliciting a shuddering sigh.

_We’d better hurry up, or I’ll be stripping in the corridor._

_That would not be ideal, t’hy’la,_ Spock said covetously, the gentle friction of their hands adding to his mounting arousal. _Do not worry. I will get you to our quarters forthwith._

The corridor was empty as they turned onto it, a fortunate rarity of which Spock intended to take full advantage. As Jim frantically keyed in the door code, he stroked a hand down his back towards his waist.

‘There is one more human tradition which I must adhere to,’ he murmured, sweeping Jim into his arms in order to carry him over the threshold.

Jim squeaked, but recovered quickly as Spock set him down, taking him in a desperate kiss. Spock returned it passionately, releasing a muffled moan as Jim hitched a leg against his hip, pressing his swelling cock against Spock’s groin.

‘Beloved,’ Spock whispered, breaking the kiss for a second before diving straight back in, licking his way into Jim’s mouth.

He lifted Jim back into his arms with ease, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of his buttocks, Jim’s own never faltering in their desperate stroking and clutching as they kissed deeply, Spock’s erection pushing painfully against the seam of his trousers. Once again, he was filled with disbelief that this man, this intelligent, charming, _wonderful_ man was his, and as they rubbed frantically together, he felt the need to slow things down, to draw out their wedding night just as Jim deserved. When he separated their lips, Jim let out a plaintive whine, but Spock consoled him with a gentle kiss to his jaw.

‘I will not rush this, adun,’ he said hoarsely, carrying him towards their bed.

Jim did not protest as he was laid down, his hand curling around the back of Spock’s neck as Spock knelt between his legs.

‘Adun… that’s-?’

‘Husband.’ Spock stroked two fingers down his cheek and over his lips. ‘In all ways now.’

A smile spread slowly across Jim’s face, his eyes filling with tears. To anyone else, it might have seemed a strange reaction, but Spock knew he was overwhelmed, the watery laugh he emitted only confirming that.

‘God, I love you,’ he said thickly, drawing him down into another, much less hurried kiss. When they parted, his hand trailed down Spock’s chest to the bulge in his trousers, and squeezed, forcing a moan from Spock’s lips. ‘You going to undress me, sweetheart?’

Spock dipped his head, smiling softly, and stroked his hands down Jim’s leg until he reached his shoe. He removed both, then peeled off his socks as well, before running his hands up to Jim’s shoulders. Off came the beautifully-tailored jacket, off came the waistcoat, and as Spock undid each button of Jim’s shirt, he kissed the newly-revealed skin beneath, lingering over Jim’s navel as he squirmed.

‘Spock. _Spock,_ come on, not the _-ere!’_

Despite his amusement, Spock conceded, pulling the fabric from underneath him, and discarding it upon the floor.

‘What would you prefer me do, taluhk-veh?’ he teased, circling his thumbs lightly over Jim’s erect nipples. ‘Where would you like me to service you?’

He bent down to kiss a trail down his neck, sucking a few soft pink marks into the skin along the way.

‘You know what I want,’ Jim said breathlessly, tugging at his hair in a way that went straight to his erection. ‘You love it too, you fetishist.’

‘I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.’

Jim moaned wantonly as Spock dragged the flat of his tongue over a nipple, then drew it into his mouth to suckle upon it, the softness between his lips making his erection throb.

‘Yeah, honey,’ Jim sighed, arching into his mouth. His hips rolled rhythmically against Spock’s chest. ‘Just like that.’

He was wet and whimpering by the time Spock pulled away, nipples swollen and red, his hair tousled from squirming against the pillows.

‘Darling,’ he breathed, the way his mouth curled around the rarely-used word making Spock shiver with arousal, ‘aren’t you going to take your clothes off?’

‘Yes, ashayam.’

Spock was much hastier about the removal of his own clothing, kicking off his shoes and stripping himself efficiently until he was completely nude, his dripping penis curving against his stomach. Jim, with flushed cheeks and blown pupils, sat up and reached for him. When he curled his hand around Spock’s erection, he swore softly, and Spock’s breath stuttered at the gentle pressure.

‘Your underwear must be soaked through,’ Jim whispered, his slow stroking making Spock’s knees go weak. When he swiped a thumb over his frenulum, Spock gasped, and Jim stared in fascination at the pre-come drooling over his hand. ‘One day, I’m going to see how wet I can actually get you. I’ll keep you on the edge for hours, watch your pretty cock spill for me until you can’t take it anymore.’

He urged Spock forward in order to take him into his mouth, one hand tugging gently at his sac as plush pink lips stretched obscenely around him. Spock moaned, the sight almost as intoxicating as the wet heat around him.

‘Jim,’ he breathed, tangling a hand in his hair as he sucked, staring up at him from beneath lowered lashes.

His legs were truly beginning to feel unsteady, so before he could put himself in a situation where Leonard would be needed before the night was through, he gently withdrew, taking Jim’s lips in a deep kiss before he could protest.

_You are so very arousing, ashal-veh. On occasion, I am embarrassed by how little stimulation is required for you to bring me to orgasm._

_Don’t be,_ Jim murmured, breaking the kiss in order to suck a love mark into his neck. _You do the same for me._

Spock hummed in pleasure, his hands shifting to undo the button and zipper of Jim’s trousers.

_May I?_

‘Of course,’ Jim mumbled, his mouth rather busy with worrying at his neck.

Spock slipped the trousers off along with Jim’s underwear, and was, as always, greatly aroused at what lay beneath. Jim’s penis was full and thick against his stomach, flushed a deep red and weeping steadily from the head, and Spock ached to touch it. Ignoring his own desperate arousal, he drew a finger up its considerable length to watch Jim shiver, hips rocking in shallow movements.

‘What do you want, adun?’ he asked tenderly, soothing him with a few gentle strokes. ‘What would you like me to do for you?’

Jim’s desperation was evident in his shifting hips, his soft sounds of pleasure, and a few images flickered through his mind into Spock’s before he answered.

‘I want- want you inside me.’

Spock kissed him sweetly, lips lingering for a moment before he began trailing them downwards from Jim’s jaw. He had plans for his new husband yet.

_As you wish._

He lapped gently over Jim’s nipples as he descended, eliciting a sharp whine from him, before pressing kisses to the rise of his stomach, and over his navel towards his jutting erection. Jim sighed, a hand carding through Spock’s hair as he pushed his hips up.

_Spock,_ he groaned, squirming in frustration as Spock bypassed his cock entirely to suck marks into his soft inner thighs. _Honey, come on!_

As usual, Spock found it difficult to withstand his pleading, particularly when it was accompanied by such wonderful noises. Eyes flicking up to Jim’s to make sure he was watching, Spock dragged his tongue slowly from base to tip, then teased him with soft, kittenish licks to the head.

‘Spock, _please,’_ Jim moaned, hips rocking and eyes hazy as he tried and failed to practice restraint.

Spock lapped away the precome that welled in the slit, taking pity on Jim and suckling gently at the head for a few long moments before releasing him. This time, Jim’s moan was borne more from frustration than pleasure, his muscles drawn taut in anticipation.

‘Peace, beloved,’ Spock soothed, hand returning to tug gently at his cock. ‘I will bring you pleasure.’

‘I know,’ Jim said brokenly, a few pearls of fluid slicking the way for Spock’s hand, its warm wetness against his fingers driving him to distraction.

Drawing back a little, he slid his hand down to stroke his fingers over Jim’s sac, before sinking down onto his belly between his legs. Jim made a soft noise of encouragement, a thrill of excitement enveloping them both as Spock exposed his hole, rubbing his thumb softly over the tightly furled muscle before dragging the flat of his tongue over it. Jim’s spark of pleasure was instant, his soft groan following right behind, and Spock felt a thrill of satisfaction at being able to make his mate feel so good.

_Like this?_ he asked, rather redundantly.

_Yes!_

Sealing his mouth over Jim’s hole, he sucked and kissed at it for a few long moments before putting his tongue to work, lapping at him until he began to loosen a little, his quiet sounds of pleasure gaining steadily in volume. He whimpered as Spock speared his tongue and slowly pushed it inwards, penetrating him gently, one hand fisting in the bedsheets even as the other tangled in Spock’s hair, trying to pull him closer. Alternating between short stabs and slow, deep pushes, Spock curled his tongue with every withdrawal, and Jim’s back bowed beautifully, a broken cry tearing from his lips. Spock felt Jim’s ecstasy as keenly as his own, and his stomach ached with it as he reached up for Jim’s cock, hot precome slicking the way. It slid between his fingers as he stroked Jim in earnest, making them both moan, his tongue pushing faster and harder inside him. Jim whimpered, each exhalation carrying a soft sound of pleasure, and Spock knew that he was close to release.

_‘T’hy’la,’_ Jim whined, rocking shamelessly back onto his tongue. ‘Spock, I’m- I need-’

_I know, ashaya. Come for me._

He worked his hand faster, rubbing his thumb gently over Jim’s frenulum, and was rewarded with a choked sob of his name as semen spurted over his hand, Jim’s hole contracting around his tongue. He withdrew with a soft kiss to Jim’s perineum, making sure to milk the last of his orgasm from him. Jim lay trembling a little in the aftermath, a pink flush across his face and chest, and hazy eyes fixed contentedly on Spock.

‘Vaksurik,’ Spock whispered, leaning up for a kiss to which Jim eagerly responded.

As they kissed, Jim took him in hand, and began lazily stroking him, making his cock throb. He moaned into Jim’s mouth, disappointed when they parted, but was rather easily distracted by Jim’s clever fingers as they teased and played with him.

‘Your turn, sweetheart,’ Jim said hoarsely, a smile playing about his lips. ‘You’re so good at making me come apart. I think it’s about time I returned the favour.’

He captured Spock’s lower lip to suckle on before moving on to his neck, hand slipping from his penis and curling round his bicep instead.

‘My priority is to bring you pleasure,’ Spock said honestly, although he found it difficult not to grind his dripping cock against Jim’s leg.

Jim’s lips curled into a soft smile, and he reached up to kiss his jaw.

‘And mine is to do the same for you.’ He lay back against the pillows, his penis already beginning to stir. ‘You want to be inside me?'

‘If that is what you also desire.’

‘Oh, I _desire,’_ Jim said lasciviously, and Spock felt a jolt of arousal at his purring tone, skimming his hands over Jim’s thighs. At his touch, Jim seemed to melt, the naked desire in his face fading beneath a softer, more loving expression. ‘I need you, Spock.’

‘Yes, t’hy’la,’ Spock breathed, leaning over him to search for the lubricant in the bedside table. His hands were uncommonly shaky as he snapped the cap open and poured it over his fingers, rubbing it warm with hitching breath. He reached down between Jim’s legs to stroke over his loosened hole, his excitement growing as Jim rocked into him. _This way, Jim?_

‘Yes,’ Jim whispered, mouth forming an ‘o’ as Spock pressed his finger gently inside, moving it deeper in slow increments until it was easy to do so, Jim’s penis rising from where it had lain soft against his stomach.

Jim moaned softly as Spock gathered up the semen on his stomach and used it to lubricate his hand as he stroked him, pushing another finger slowly beside the first when he was sure that Jim could take it. It wasn’t long before Jim was rocking back into him, his erection throbbing in Spock’s hand, and as Spock scissored his fingers, his name fell from Jim’s lips, breathy and soft.

‘Taluhk-veh,’ Spock murmured, feeling his passion rise as Jim squirmed in pleasure, cock leaking once more. He bent to press an open-mouthed kiss to it, watching Jim’s expression as he whined with something akin to reverence. ‘My James.’

‘More,’ Jim begged, moaning as Spock obliged him by taking his erection into his mouth. ‘Please, Spock. _More.’_

Spock closed his eyes and sucked him in deeper, his mouth bobbing on half of his penis while the other half was attended to by his hand. The sharp flavour of Jim’s precome and the musk of his cock were intoxicating, as were the whimpering noises leaving his lips as Spock gently pressed his fingers deeper, knowing Jim’s body far better than his own by now. When he found and fondled his husband’s prostate, Jim cried out, inadvertently pushing deeper into Spock’s mouth, and Spock took him easily, waving away his breathless apology. He knew that Jim was getting close, his breath hitching and colour rising, and it was beautiful to watch. The bond thrummed as his t’hy’la neared climax, and when Spock inserted another finger, a pleasured sob escaped him.

‘I’m so close, ’shaya,’ he said shakily, a warm burst of precome leaking into Spock’s mouth as he rubbed and stroked at Jim’s prostate.

_I know, adun. I can feel it in the bond, and in your body. Let go. I am here._

He sucked hard, fingers curling inside his t’hy’la, and Jim came with a cry, spilling thickly into Spock’s mouth. Spock swallowed repeatedly, careful not to let any leave his mouth, and rose to lie beside Jim, letting himself be pulled into a kiss. His fingers still carefully stretched Jim as their mouth slid passionately together, the fluid that leaked from his erection beginning to leave a slick patch upon his thigh.

_You’re amazing,_ Jim said lovingly, caressing the spongy head with two fingers. When Spock moaned into his mouth, he pulled back with a soft smile, trailing those fingers down and up his shaft. ‘I think it’s time you got a little relief.’

At his gentle urging, Spock mounted him, keeping a careful eye on his expression despite how he trembled with need.

‘Are you certain, k’diwa?’ he asked tenderly, cupping his cheek.

Jim smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

‘Of course I am. You don’t need to ask.’

‘I will always ask permission, Jim.’

Were it not for the bond telling of his gratitude and overwhelming love, Spock might have been alarmed by the way that Jim’s eyes filled with tears. They were quickly blinked away, a sheen remaining which only highlighted the iridescent quality of his eyes, and without a word, Jim spread his legs obligingly, pulling him down into a kiss.

_Take me,_ he murmured, slicking lubricant over Spock’s dripping erection. They parted slowly, barely inches apart, and Jim shifted until Spock was pushed right up against him. ‘Come on, darling. I need you.’

Spock leant forwards to kiss Jim’s forehead, then his nose, then his lips, before slowly pushing forwards with an uninhibited groan of relief. Jim was hot and tight, his arms circling Spock as he let out an answering moan, despite the fact that his penis was still soft against his belly. Spock would be sure to rectify that. Once he was fully inside, he and Jim lay motionless for a few long moments, breathing together in their closeness. Jim reached up with a shaking hand to trace his cheek and jaw, then the point of his ear, lips curling into a smile that was equally tremulous.

‘My husband,’ he whispered, a teary laugh escaping him.

‘Yours,’ Spock confirmed, turning into the hand which cradled his cheek and kissing the palm firmly. ‘And you are mine.’

‘Yes,’ Jim breathed, his softened penis twitching against Spock’s pelvis. ‘Think you can make me come again?’

Spock gently took him in hand, stroking him between thumb and forefinger, and revelling in his quiet gasp.

‘I am certain that I can, las’hark.’

Jim was beginning to stiffen already, and he wriggled in delight, kissing the hinge of Spock’s jaw.

‘Move, honey.’

Spock stopped stroking him in order to lean forward on his forearms, so close to Jim when he began slowly moving inside him that his soft gasp was drawn from Jim’s mouth. Each time they made love, he felt as much pleasure as the first time, Jim’s body welcoming him in the same way. Pushing into Jim’s tightness made his cock throb, and he was unable to repress a soft cry.

‘That’s it, baby,’ Jim crooned, his penis half-hard once more. ‘Enjoy it.’

Spock let out a shaky breath into the crook of his neck as he sucked a lovebite there. When he angled his hips a little, searching for Jim’s prostate, Jim jerked and moaned, crossing his ankles behind his back.

‘Right there, Spock,’ he choked, curling his hand into his hair.

_Yes, t’hy’la._

He reached down to stroke Jim’s penis until it was fully hard, revelling in the breathy noises escaping him as he set a slow, deep rhythm, pleasure beginning to curl in his stomach. He kissed every part of Jim’s face that he could reach, allowing himself to be pulled down into a passionate kiss at Jim’s behest, feeling the vibrations of guttural moans against his lips with a thrill of satisfaction.

_Ashal-veh,_ he groaned, pushing against Jim’s prostate with perfect precision. _Ashayam._

He raised his trembling hand towards Jim’s cheek, pulling away from the kiss in order to ask his permission. Jim, looking thoroughly beautiful in all his red-cheeked, swollen-lipped glory, nodded eagerly, pressing his hand over Spock’s as it found his meld points.

‘Come on, sweetheart.’

When he joined their minds, Spock marvelled anew at how well they fit together. Jim’s pleasure burned bright, and when the final barrier dropped between them, it spread across the bond like wildfire, meeting Spock’s own in a blaze of colour and light. He could feel Jim’s body in tandem with his own, feel himself penetrated as well as penetrating, and knew that it was the same for Jim too. When he withdrew from the deeper meld, Jim was writhing beneath him, begging for him to go faster, to push deeper, and Spock gratefully obliged, heat building almost unbearably in his groin.

‘Oh God, oh God,’ Jim wailed, his cock hard and leaking between them. ‘Spock, I need to come.’

‘I know, beloved,’ Spock replied, his voice deep enough that it was almost a growl, his limbs tingling in anticipation of climax. His hips snapped forwards as Jim scrambled for a hold on his shoulders, clinging to him tightly. ‘I wish to see it. Come for me.’

Spock pushed his own pursuit of pleasure aside in order to bring Jim over the edge, dropping his hand now that the meld had taken to pull at his cock. Jim cried out as he moved faster and deeper, relentless in his rhythm, and within the bond, Spock felt him unravel all at once. Jim screamed, his climax so strong that it triggered Spock’s own a few moments later, his vision blurring as he emptied himself into his new husband, a shout of Jim’s name tearing from his throat. When he came back to himself, the meld having naturally broken, Jim was squirming in discomfort, reaching down to still the hand which continued to stroke his sensitive penis.

_Apologies, beloved,_ Spock whispered, swiping a finger over the head as he took his hand away, sucking the trace of semen off it.

‘God, you’re so sexy,’ Jim said hoarsely, obviously exhausted by their lovemaking. ‘C’mere.’

He reached up to pull Spock into a soft, sweet kiss which was enthusiastically returned, a blinding smile taking his lips once they had parted.

‘That was amazing, t’hy’la.’

‘I concur,’ Spock said quietly, still a little dazed. ‘Let me make you more comfortable.’

With a final, brief kiss to Jim’s lips, he carefully slipped out of him, shivering in the cooler air as he rose to retrieve a cloth. When he returned, he cleaned Jim as thoroughly as he could, dabbing gently between his legs, then placing the cloth on the bedside table. Jim’s eyes were half-open, and he radiated contentment as Spock slipped back beneath the duvet, cradling Jim against his chest. He took a moment to breathe in Jim’s scent, kissing the top of his head as he cuddled into him.

‘Taluhk nash-veh k’dular,’ he murmured, feeling a great swell of love for Jim, so constantly in disbelief that he had agreed to spend his life with Spock, that he occasionally wondered if he was delusional.

He could feel the curve of Jim’s smile against his pectoral as his hand was grasped, Jim playing with the rings on his finger.

‘I love you too,’ he whispered, pulling Spock’s arm tighter around him. ‘So much. God, I’m tired.’

‘Sleep then, adun,’ Spock said tenderly, calling the lights down to ten percent. ‘We have tomorrow to ourselves as well.’

Jim made a humming sound of either acknowledgement of approval – perhaps both – and nuzzled into him, the buzz of his thoughts beginning to soften.

_Night, honey._

_Goodnight, James,_ Spock replied, holding his new husband a little tighter as he drifted off to sleep. He followed him into oblivion only when he had made certain that he was peaceful, the weight of the rings on his finger, and Jim’s head upon his chest a comfort beyond all else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? :D Please let me know in the comments if you guys enjoyed the chapter - it's something I've wanted to happen in the story for ages! I've no more holidays planned for the immediate future, and I'm settling back into work (boo), so the updating schedule should stay as steady as it has been - not too long to go now :) Anyway, I hope all of you enjoy your weekend, and if you feel like checking out my tumblr, it's right [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/)! Happy Friday, guys :)
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Here are the suits if anyone's interested:
> 
> https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://image.dhgate.com/0x0/f2/albu/g1/M01/79/D8/rBVaGFXaek2ACXDNAAN6zKp_o7c006.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.dhgate.com/store/product/2015-fashion-navy-blue-mens-suits-notched/252433299.html&h=1078&w=808&tbnid=O2wDffaJb4SgHM:&docid=l10Ow71IsoaXUM&ei=12K2VoKEA8WKP8XNs3g&tbm=isch&ved=0ahUKEwjCy7fth-TKAhVFxQ8KHcXmDA8QMwh4KFEwUQ  
> – without such a low-cut waistcoat
> 
> https://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://image.dhgate.com/0x0/f2/albu/g2/M01/FC/C5/rBVaG1Xe0fqAFislAAHYNaDJdjk453.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.dhgate.com/product/2015-gentleman-grey-mens-suits-peaked-lapel/252861768.html&h=1078&w=891&tbnid=1ECBPRx8A5xLnM:&docid=SmNK1MyIn19SYM&ei=12K2VoKEA8WKP8XNs3g&tbm=isch&ved=0ahUKEwjCy7fth-TKAhVFxQ8KHcXmDA8QMwh3KFAwUA


	30. The People All Exulting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, fluff! And an interesting suggestion from Jim...

Stardate 2261.92. 1045 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

Something positive appears to have happened yesterday afternoon. As vague as that proclamation is, I am genuinely surprised to see a smile on Jim’s face as he enters the room, for once, without his children. He greets me chirpily, his posture relaxed as he settles in his chair, one leg crossing casually over the other. However, the dark shadows beneath his eyes still linger, the weariness in his expression alongside, and I suspect that - whatever has happened - the issue is not entirely resolved. As we speak, he turns a communicator over and over in one hand, the other tapping asynchronously against the fore of an armrest, the hyperactive behaviour at odds with the calm picture he is presenting.

You’re smiling today.

_[He nods, that easy smile returned once more.]_

JK: We made a little progress with our… problem.

Oh? Do tell.

JK: The idiots who decided to threaten us were attempting to do so covertly. Turns out that none of the other council members were in on it, which was what I was worried about.

_[He sighs angrily, the tapping becoming more violent.]_

JK: I was up for simply threatening to tell the others about how they were blackmailing us – hoping that they were innocent in all of this – but then they dug themselves a hole they couldn’t get out of.

How do you mean?

JK: _[through gritted teeth]_ During one of our recent conversations, one of the council members – who I can now tell you is a Vulcan – dared to suggest that the children are so close to us because of trauma bonding.

_[Jim lets a derisive huff of air escape from his nose.]_

JK: Do you know what trauma bonding is?

No.

JK: I didn’t until Spock told me. It’s the same thing as Stockholm Syndrome. _[The tapping stops, his hands clutching white-knuckled on the armrests]._ As if we would _ever_ harm our children! You know, I actually asked him by what reasoning he came to that conclusion. I told him that those accusations were completely unsubstantiated. He told me that it was illogical for them to be so attached to us.

_[He lets out a bark of bitter laughter, face contorting in fury.]_

JK: They’re human, and it is _completely_ natural, considering the situation we’ve just come out of. And they’re coming up five and three – they’re going to be clingy as hell! Stonak is just another bastard who hates Spock because he’s not fully Vulcan. I was so ready to go off, but Spock beat me to it. _[The anger melts away to something resembling satisfaction.]_ He fucking _slaughtered_ him with logic, and by the end, Stonak was just a silent, seething mess. It was pretty hot really.

So that’s what’s put you in such a good mood?

JK: Partly, yeah. But mostly because we actually went to the remainder of the council afterwards, to complain about the behaviour of Stonak and the others. They were pretty horrified, and they’ve suspended their council membership. Turns out we didn’t need Sarek after all.

_[The tapping stops, and he begins to pass the communicator between his hands, a smirk curving his lips.]_

JK: I’ve also done a little digging, and I’ve uncovered a certain amount of – ah – _unsavoury_ information about some of them, which helps. You know, if their membership happened to be reinstated.

_[The gleam in his eyes is fierce as he leans forward.]_

JK: _Nobody_ hurts my children. _Nobody._

* * *

Dawn was different on a starship, in space or not. There was no window for the morning light to filter through, nor light at all once the atmosphere had been breached, and yet, in their dim, metal quarters, Jim had rarely slept better. Waking was not instant, instead made up of restless shifting, whining, and the desperate urge to fall back asleep while they had time to lie in – none of which prevented his body from forcing him conscious, hours before he was needed to do anything. The one positive of this unfortunate awakening was lying beneath him, warm despite his cooler body temperature, his arms looped loosely around Jim even now, as if he had held him all night. The slow burn of Jim’s affection roared to life as he gained awareness, stroking his finger lightly over Spock’s belly, teasing the hair there into little whorls. When he was younger, Jim hadn’t exactly dreamed of falling in love and getting married, too concerned with drinking and fighting, but even in this hellish environment, Spock and the kids had made him happier than he had ever been before. He wondered what all the teachers who had scolded him would think of him now.

As he daydreamed, a strange snuffling noise escaped Spock, which, when Jim pulled away enough to look up, was found to be due to the pillow he was pressing his face into. Smiling fondly, Jim pulled the fabric away from his nose, helping him breathe more easily. For a long while, he was content merely to watch Spock sleep, stroking slowly over his belly as his gaze trailed over his new husband’s body, at once familiar and exciting. Spock’s mouth was hanging open, and his fine hair was in disarray, fanned out over the pillow, looking as soft to the touch as ever. Jim rubbed a few strands between his fingers, and Spock made a quiet, sleepy noise of disgruntlement. God, Jim loved him.

Trailing his hand lower, the back of his fingers brushed against the swollen head of Spock’s morning erection, his own half-interested cock twitching against his thigh. Spock’s hips shifted, but Jim moved his hand away despite how badly he wanted to touch him. Not while he was asleep. Not while he couldn’t say no, even if Jim was sure he wouldn’t. Consent was something that Jim cared deeply about; he supposed there could be worse obsessions.

When Spock was asleep, the bond was – well – fuzzy, he guessed, but now it was beginning to gain clarity, much calmer than his own mind in waking. As his breathing began to shallow, Jim shifted closer to press slow, soft kisses to his neck and chest, wanting him to wake up to something pleasant. Spock’s skin was cool beneath his lips, pale and yielding to the marks Jim sucked into it, and when Jim latched onto a particularly sensitive spot in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, he shuddered, eyelids fluttering open.

‘Hey, baby,’ Jim said sweetly, smiling as those beautiful brown eyes, softened with sleep, met his. ‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning,’ Spock repeated, his voice rough with disuse. ‘Are you well, t’hy’la?’

Jim nodded, and when Spock leant in for a kiss, he met him halfway, rolling on top of him. They kissed slowly, tongues stroking and exploring familiar mouths, and when Spock licked over his palate, Jim’s hips jerked, a wet trail of precome smearing over Spock’s belly. He moaned as their erections caught and slid together, one hand sliding down from where he was cradling Spock’s face to stroke over his nipple, then further down to ghost over the head of his cock. Spock broke away, sighing raggedly.

‘K’diwa,’ he breathed, a light green flush spreading across his cheeks.

Feeling a rush of affection, Jim leant down to kiss him briefly, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip before pulling back and sitting up, curling his hand around both of their erections.

‘Is this what you want, sweetheart?’ he asked, shivering at the feel of Spock’s dripping cock against his own. ‘Do you want it like this?’

‘Yes,’ Spock breathed, his breath hitching as Jim moved his hand minutely.

‘Give me your hand,’ Jim coaxed, taking it within his own as Spock lifted it towards him. ‘I think you’ll like this even better.’

As he began slowly stroking them together, the pleasure of it so intense that he could barely breathe, he took the fingers Spock kissed him with into his mouth and began gently sucking on them. Spock moaned helplessly, hips pushing up into the tight circle of Jim’s fist, sliding against Jim in a way that made them both shudder. Flicking his tongue over the webbing between two of his fingers, and sliding the rings up and down another, Jim watched in delight as Spock squirmed beneath him, erection drooling over the back of his hand.

_‘Jim.’_

_I know, my love,_ Jim panted, his ragged sigh muffled by Spock’s fingers as he moved with him. _I know you need to come. I’m going to get you there, don’t worry._

Spock let out a weak cry as Jim gently bit down on his knuckles, pupils blown hugely. Pressure began to build in Jim’s spine as they pushed and rubbed together, Spock thick and slick and hot in his hand and against him, and when he reached out with his free hand to press his fingers to Spock’s lips, Spock took them into his mouth.

 _You’re so hot,_ Jim moaned, the sight of Spock suckling on them arousing despite his lesser sensitivity. He tightened his fist slightly, pulling his fingers from Spock’s mouth as Spock cried out, pushing his erection up against Jim’s in short, sharp jabs. _That’s it, honey. That’s it. Come, Spock._

‘Ashaya,’ Spock groaned, warm semen pulsing out onto Jim’s cock and hand, slicking the way further.

Jim was so close, but he could see Spock getting oversensitive, and when he let go of them both to tug frantically at his own erection, Spock pushed his hand away.

‘It is your turn now, James,’ he whispered heatedly, stroking him with familiar skill. ‘Let go for me. I love you.’

A high-pitched whine escaping his lips, Jim came so hard he saw stars, Spock’s hand milking him until he weakly pushed it away, spent.

‘I love you too,’ he said breathlessly, pitching forward onto his forearms. ‘Love you, t’hy’la.’

He worried at the tip of Spock’s ear as he bent to kiss him sweetly, rubbing gently back and forth over the tip of it as Spock licked into his mouth, arms holding him close. When they parted, his eyes were soft and contented, and Jim wanted him all the more.

‘We’ve got a few hours yet,’ he murmured, pressing butterfly kisses to the corner of his lips. ‘What do you say to a little more… private time?’

Spock’s hands were splayed wide over his back, smoothing over his skin, but when Jim spoke, they slid to take hold of his biceps, Spock’s arousal clear through their connection.

‘If that is a euphemism, then I am certainly amenable.’

‘Amenable?’ Jim grinned, sucking a lovebite into the base of his neck. ‘How about enthusiastic? Delighted?’

‘Those words are not inaccurate,’ Spock replied, his voice decidedly strained as he carded his hand through Jim’s hair.

‘Awesome. Because I’m definitely delighted.’

Spock guided him down into another kiss, more passionate than their last, and Jim returned it enthusiastically, sucking on his lower lip before pulling away with a soft pop.

‘You took care of me last night,’ he said raggedly, kissing and sucking his way down his neck. _Now I’m going to take care of you._

Spock became tangibly pliant, relaxing beneath Jim as he worked his way over his collarbone and sternum, leaving flushed green marks on pale skin in his wake. Arousal began to rise in Jim once more; knowing that his husband felt the same was a powerful aphrodisiac. The bond was alight with affection and desire on both sides, and when Jim circled his thumb over Spock’s areola, it flared once more.

‘You so have a fetish,’ he teased, stroking Spock’s cheek as his face flushed. ‘Then again, I think I must do too.’

‘How fortuitous,’ Spock said dryly, squirming as Jim continued to touch him, feather-light. ‘Ashal-veh, you know what I… what I-’

‘Yeah, honey, I know what you need,’ Jim cooed, pressing a final kiss to his lips before leaning down to take the nipple into his mouth, sucking softly.

He heard a quiet, drawn-out moan from above, Spock’s penis leaving a wet patch on his abdomen as it hardened against him, and he smiled triumphantly against Spock’s chest.

‘Yes, Jim, you are pleasuring me,’ Spock deadpanned – or, at least, as best he could while Jim was anywhere near his nipples. ‘Now, if you would please continue.’

‘Bossy,’ Jim tutted, before gladly obeying, lapping slowly around the areola, then flicking his tongue over the hard little nub that had risen beneath his mouth, listening to the quiet _‘ah, ah, ah!’_ noises that escaped Spock with fleeting pride, and dizzying affection.

He pulled away to inspect his work after a few minutes, finding it puffy and swollen, and only a little more green than Spock’s face turned out to be when he looked up. Spock whined when he rubbed his finger gently over the nub, his back arching a little, and Jim kissed his way right over to the other, intending to repeat the process. He could feel Spock’s erection twitching against his belly as he kissed and sucked at him, wetting his own half-hard cock with its flooding precome, and just when Spock’s voice began to crack, he found himself gently, but insistently, pushed away.

‘Too much,’ Spock said shakily, his breathing heavy.

Jim felt a flush of cold anxiety, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached for Spock’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

‘You want to stop?’ he asked gently, determined not to pressure him in any way.

‘No.’ Spock shivered, bringing a hand up to his own chest to swipe a finger over his nipple, mewling with oversensitivity. ‘I do not want to stop. I merely became overwhelmed for a moment.’

Jim kissed his knuckles reverently, hyperaware of any uncertainty as he confirmed –

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, adun,’ Spock breathed, tilting his hips so that his swollen erection pressed against his thigh. ‘Please.’

Jim watched him warily for a few seconds longer, before releasing a long, shaky breath, an easy smile curving his lips.

‘You’re so gorgeous,’ he whispered, pressing a trail of kisses from sternum to navel, completely bypassing his cock in order to tease the sensitive skin of his thighs.

Spock squirmed, yielding easily to Jim’s hands as they pulled his hips up, and Jim settled between his spread legs. Using his thumbs to open him up, Jim breathed over his twitching hole, hearing the weak call of his name with satisfaction.

_Is this okay, baby?_

Only with Spock’s enthusiastic consent did he press forward and lap gently over his target, working his tongue slowly over and around Spock’s hole until he felt him begin to loosen. As Spock writhed and shouted beneath him, Jim gently fucked him with his tongue, relentless in his pace. It was only when he began to feel Spock’s orgasm encroaching that he backed off, the protestation that followed choked-off, but most definitely there. Spock was green-cheeked and lightly sweating when he emerged, cock rising thickly between his legs, drooling precome into the pool already on his belly. Jim thought he was stunning.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured, moaning as he kissed the shaft and found his lips covered in thick liquid. He licked it away lasciviously, meeting Spock’s desperate gaze with lusty eyes. ‘God, I love how wet you get for me.’

‘Only you,’ Spock said softly, his mouth falling open with a gasp as Jim licked a stripe up his cock.

 _You’re delicious,_ he purred, taking the head into his mouth and sucking with abandon.

Spock keened, his hands coming up immediately to tangle in his hair, knees drawing up at either side of his head. Relaxing his throat, Jim began inching his way down, careful not to take too much as Spock writhed, his other hand stroking firmly over the base. Spock was leaking copiously into his mouth, and he revelled in his soft cries as he sucked harder, drawing himself back up to pay special attention to his slit.

_Come, baby. I want you to come for me._

Spock whimpered as he flicked his tongue over his frenulum, muscles drawing like bowstrings.

_That’s it, baby. Come, Spock._

With a cracked sob of his name, Spock came hard, the bond pulsing as strongly as his penis as he spurted into Jim’s mouth. Though he struggled, Jim managed to swallow almost all of it, his own erection throbbing between his legs in the aftermath. Wiping his mouth, he heard a thump as Spock’s head met the pillow, his bondmate radiating contentment as he pulled away.

‘Good?’ he asked, trying to ignore his own heady arousal.

Spock nodded, the fingers of one hand trailing lazily down Jim’s chest towards his cock.

‘Very much so. I would not object to you being inside me, ashayam.’

He curled a skilful hand around Jim’s cock, forcing a groan from his throat as he squeezed lightly.

‘You sure?’

‘I am,’ Spock replied firmly, retrieving the lubricant from their bedside table and pressing it into his hand. ‘I do not believe that I will require much preparation.’

‘Indulge me,’ Jim smiled, kissing him gently as he flipped the cap open, pouring the lube blindly into his hand.

When he reluctantly pulled back, Spock drew his knees up, displaying himself for Jim. Jim skimmed his dry hand over the inside of a soft thigh, marvelling in the trust and vulnerability of that single gesture. The bond sang with joy.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said reverently, stroking the pad of his finger over Spock’s hole. ‘Is this okay, sweetheart?’

 _‘Yes,’_ Spock said, his voice strained with want as he lifted his hips, impaling himself on the tip.

Taking the hint, Jim began slowly opening him up with plenty of lube and more patience, his own arousal nagging at him all the while. By the time he had three fingers inside, massaging his prostate between each languid push and pull, Spock was begging for him, flushed cock straining wetly against his belly. Jim moved with him as he bucked and moaned, Vulcan hissing from kiss-swollen lips, and when he grasped the base of his erection, Spock all but howled.

‘Shhh, darling,’ Jim crooned, gently slipping his fingers out of him. ‘Do you still want-’

Spock responded by snatching up the lube, pouring a generous amount into his hand and slicking him up so thoroughly that it tore the breath from his lungs.

‘Point taken,’ he gasped, taking himself in hand and guiding his cock between Spock’s legs.

He indulged himself for a moment by rubbing the head slowly over Spock’s hole, enjoying the catch on the rim and the hitch of his breath before Spock once again began squirming impatiently.

‘All right, honey,’ he murmured, lacing their fingers together and revelling in the wrecked sound that escaped Spock’s mouth as he gently pushed forwards, moaning as that familiar tight heat enveloped him.

Spock let out an answering moan as he was filled, his captured hand squeezing Jim’s forcefully, and the other clutching at his shoulder blade. Overcome with pleasure, Jim dipped his head to kiss and suck at his neck, worrying at the skin with his teeth.

‘T’hy’la,’ Spock whined, his knees sliding higher up Jim’s torso. ‘Please move.’

There was clear desperation in his voice, so Jim decided against teasing, pulling out an inch or so and pushing slowly back in, moving deeper with each thrust. He knew Spock needed him to make him come pretty badly – shaking and sweating, he rocked into Jim with increasing fervour – so Jim didn’t waste time. He found Spock’s prostate with practiced ease, and made sure to drive towards it as he began to move faster, circling his thumb over the head of his cock before taking him in hand and stroking him roughly. Spock cried out, his voice cracking beautifully, and Jim felt a great swell of arousal as he watched him fall apart, eyes shining with tears.

 _‘Jim,’_ he sobbed, writhing beneath him. _‘Jim!’_

‘I know, love,’ Jim said raggedly, nuzzling into his cheek as he hammered into him. ‘I know, but I’m going to make you come. You’re going to come so hard, honey.’

Keeping his rhythm as steady as he could, he rubbed his thumb between the ridges of Spock’s erection, then pressed it into the slit, squeezing the hand he still held against the mattress. Spock wailed, his back arching and cock spurting come up to his chest as he climaxed explosively, impacting the bond with a shockwave so forceful that Jim felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. There was no holding on, not after that. As Spock slowly recovered, carding through his hair, Jim felt the pressure in his belly build overwhelmingly, and a ragged moan escaped him.

‘Sarlah, k’diwa,’ Spock encouraged, voice deep and satisfied as Jim rutted desperately into him. ‘Let go for me.’

Jim obeyed with startling speed, groaning Spock’s name into his neck as white-hot pleasure overtook him, and he came inside him, hips working slower and slower until he half-collapsed on top of his husband. Spock ghosted gentle kisses against his damp temple, holding him close as he came down from the high, and when he eventually felt steady enough to move, Jim leant up to press their lips together. Spock’s hands smoothed over his back as they kissed languidly, parting only when Jim felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

‘I love you,’ he rasped, chest heaving as he struggled for air.

Spock, looking rather more composed despite the faint flush across his cheeks and general dishevelment, smiled softly. Jim loved seeing him smile; it made him even more beautiful than usual.

‘Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, Spock murmured, shifting a little beneath him.

‘Sorry, sweetie,’ Jim said hurriedly, gently slipping out of him. ‘Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’

‘You did not, t’hy’la.’

Jim smiled fondly, pressing a few lingering kisses to his lips before sitting up, skimming a hand down Spock’s chest towards his belly, absently rubbing circles there.

‘So,’ he said softly, ‘I don’t know about you, but I kind of miss the babies. It’s weird being away from them.’

‘It is strange,’ Spock agreed, arching into his hand. ‘Perhaps once we have showered, we could retrieve them?’

Jim nodded, playing with the hair beneath his navel.

‘I know Bones said he would have them until this afternoon, but... we’ve always got tonight to make love while they’re asleep.’

He grinned, raising his eyes to Spock’s.

‘And every other night.’

‘That is true,’ Spock replied, sitting up with a slight wince. ‘And I would rather we shower sooner than later. There are… downsides to making love without contraception.’

‘You know I’ll always put a condom on if you ask,’ Jim said sympathetically, understanding completely. Although he definitely preferred Spock in him bare, the aftermath wasn’t always pleasant if he didn’t clear up right away. ‘Shower, then?’

Spock nodded, getting up and shuffling off to the fresher. Jim followed close behind, torn between arousal and embarrassment as a trickle of his come escaped from inside him. There was a flicker of shame from Spock, and as they reached the shower, Jim put his arms around him.

‘None of that,’ he murmured, kissing the hinge of his jaw. ‘You can’t help it any more than I can. Let’s get you cleaned up. Sonic or water?’

‘I prefer water when-’

He paused, blushing, and Jim kissed him again.

‘Water it is.’

They cleaned one another thoroughly, tenderly, slowed down by the need to touch and kiss – and in Jim’s case, to stroke over Spock’s wedding ring as many times as possible – but eventually emerged from their quarters to retrieve the children.

The few people they met along the way congratulated them, and Jim thanked them cheerfully, Spock less so, but there was a contented glimmer in his eye nonetheless. Bones let them in with an expression as grumpy as ever, and Jim couldn’t contain his sudden rush of affection, grasping him in a bear hug.

‘Bones! How’re the kids?’

‘Well, little guy’s having his mornin’ nap, so hush,’ he drawled, patting Jim heavily on the back. ‘Liora’s playin’ with Alfie next door.’

‘Does Alfie _live_ with you?’ Jim asked, only half-joking. ‘He’s always here.’

Bones scowled, flushing a little.

‘He’s not _always_ here. He’s just- Jim, is that a goddamn hickey?’

‘One of many,’ Jim smirked, making no effort whatsoever to cover it up. ‘Want to hear about our evening? Or this morning?’

‘James.’

‘No!’

Unrepentant, Jim grinned, and made his way over to the crib in the corner of the room. Theo was soundly asleep within it, one chubby little fist balled next to his face, fingers twitching every so often.

‘There’s my baby boy,’ Jim whispered, gently stroking his face with the back of his finger.

Spock came up behind him to look into the crib, a warm wash of love curling through the bond, and Jim wasn’t sure which one of them it had come from. Reaching out, Spock smoothed down his fine hair, his hand brushing Jim’s as he drew back.

‘He is contented. And Liora is next door?’

Bones nodded as Jim turned round, determined not to wake Theo.

‘I was surprised you came this morning. We’d have had ’em all day, you know.’

‘I know, Bonesy,’ Jim replied, touching his arm as he recognised the flicker of a shadow across his face, ‘but we missed them. Besides, I think I wore him out.’

‘Oh, God.’

Throwing him a filthy look (though most people wouldn’t have noticed), Spock opened the fresher door, then the connecting door to Alfie’s room, stepping through without another word. As Jim followed, breathing a sigh of relief when a quick scan of the bond showed that Spock wasn’t really annoyed, there was a high-pitched squeal of ‘Sa-mekh’, and their little girl came running. Spock hoisted her easily into his arms, cradling her tenderly, and Jim’s heart squeezed to see it. He found himself similarly greeted as soon as he came into view, her pretty eyes lighting up, and a toothy grin appearing on her face.

‘Hey, sweetpea,’ he cooed, attempting to smooth her wild hair down. ‘What’ve you been up to?’

‘Playin’ puzzles with Alfie!’

‘Is that right?’

She nodded emphatically, and Jim turned to the man still sat cross-legged on the floor, his hair falling forward into his eyes as he began to get up.

‘We didn’t want to wake Theo, so we came in here,’ he explained, swiping the hair away. ‘They’ve been good as gold, both of ’em.’

‘Well, thanks for looking after them,’ Jim said sincerely, pulling one of Liora’s socks up. ‘You guys are so great with them.’

Alfie smiled, ducking his head.

‘It’s no problem at all, sir. I’ll help all I can when I’m not on shift.’

‘Daddy, where Beau?’ Liora interrupted, her face twisting in concern as she sat up in Spock’s arms.

Jim quickly scanned the room, frowning.

‘I don’t know, honey. Do you remember where you left him?’

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

‘Is the bear perhaps in the other room where you slept?’ Spock said quickly, taking her from his arms as she shrugged, distress rising in her expression. ‘We shall see.’

‘See you later, Alfie,’ Jim threw out as he followed, hoping to avoid a meltdown.

Before they could even ask, Bones was holding Beau out, and Liora squealed happily as she hugged him to her chest, burying her face in the soft fake fur. Unfortunately, the noise woke her brother, and Theo announced his consciousness with a shrill wail, obviously unhappy about being woken.

‘Hey, Teddy Bear,’ Jim cooed, sweeping him up into a cradle. ‘It’s okay, it was just your sister. See?’

He pointed to Liora and Theo stared tearfully at her, his head against Jim’s chest. Liora reached out to him, clumsily patting at his arm.

‘S’okay, Theo. I was just happy because I found Beau.’

Jim was pretty sure he didn’t understand, but at least the crying had stopped on both sides. He kissed Theo’s head, exchanging a warm look with Spock over the top of it.

‘All right, lovebirds, get out before you start _makin’_ out,’ Bones grumbled, clapping Jim on the arm. ‘Bye, kids.’

‘Bye, bye,’ Liora chirped, taking hold of her brother’s arm and shaking it. ‘Say bye, Theo.’

‘Bah.’

‘See you later, Bones,’ Jim smiled, squeezing the baby. ‘Thanks for this. Oh, and I want to call a meeting this afternoon after shift change – do you think you can leave Medbay for a while?’

‘Sure, as long as there’re no major traumas. What’s it about?’

You’ll see,’ he grinned, letting Liora, whom Spock had let down, lead them out of the door. ‘Go left, baby girl. It’s time for food.’

Spock’s curiosity tickled at him as they set off towards the mess, light and non-invasive, but there all the same. Jim let his hand drop and brushed their fingers together, feeling the echo of his pleasure with a shiver of his own.

_I’ve got an idea, that’s all. I think you’ll agree, but I’d like to run it past everyone. It’s about maybe doing something to help people on the ground._

Spock nodded slowly, drawing Liora towards him as an engineer came striding down the corridor, saluting them on the way.

_I am certain that you will have viable suggestions, t’hy’la. And I will do my best to support you with them._

Jim felt his lips stretch into a wider smile, yet again overcome by the gentle affection directed towards him.

_God, I want to kiss you right now. The human way, I mean._

_Later,_ Spock promised, stroking his fingers down the back of Jim’s hand. _That, and so much more._

Four hours later, Jim, Spock, Bones, and Amanda piled into a meeting room, closely followed by the rest of the Bridge crew and Scotty. Chris was already there, and Jim sat by his side at the round table, noticing with amusement how Spock rushed to sit beside him before Bones could try. Janice had taken the kids, and although Jim would have liked to get hers, Christine’s and Alfie’s opinions as well, he knew they could wait. There were eight other people to run his ideas past yet.

They looked at him expectantly as the greetings died down, and he clasped his hands on the table in front of him, leaning forward.

‘Right,’ he began awkwardly, not knowing who to fix his gaze upon, ‘I’ve asked you all here today because I’ve had an idea which I’m hoping at least some of you will be on board with. As you all know, we’re very lucky to be safe up here. We don’t have to worry about waking up in the middle of the night and finding Ferals outside anymore. But many other people don’t have that luxury.’

‘We know that,’ Nyota said softly, a crinkle in her forehead. ‘And I know it nags at a lot of us.’

Scotty and Amanda nodded, the latter smiling knowingly at him.

‘Getting other people up here isn’t really viable. I know that our sole transport option at the moment is a one-man autopilot pod, and Scotty has only just managed to modify it in the little spare time he has after a month of work. But I think there are other things we can do. We have replicators. I’m sure many people down there don’t, so I think aid packages would be a good idea. Food, water, medical supplies – anything helpful that we can program into our replicators. And sending the pod down there could be beneficial for us as well. Once we have the scanners up and running, we can find uninhabited areas in which fresh vegetables and fruit are growing, and we can take samples to seed.’

He didn’t mention what else had crossed his mind – something he had kept secret even from Spock – and cast his eye around the group, taking in their reactions.

‘I think it’s a damn fine idea,’ Chris announced, breaking the silence with the kind of expression that made a happy flush spread across Jim’s face. Praise from him, the only father Jim had ever known, meant more than it did from most, and he knew it well. ‘We’d have to plan out the logistics very carefully, but as a preliminary idea, it’s excellent. Well done, Jim.’

Jim’s face went even more pink, a floaty feeling present in his stomach as he absorbed the compliment. He fought the urge to squirm happily; an urge that only intensified as Chris’ sentiments were repeated rather more intimately by his husband. Spock’s pride surrounded him internally, warm and suffusing, and Jim’s hand fell naturally to his beneath the table, their fingers lacing together like the plastic teeth of a zip, like they were made to do so.

_I had suspected that this would be your idea._

_You always know,_ Jim said fondly, squeezing his hand and hearing quite clearly the hitch in his breath.

He had missed the specifics of what had been said after his suggestion, but not that everyone seemed to be in agreement, no frowns to be seen.

‘Will crewmembers be going down, or will we be sending the pod alone?’ Amanda asked brightly, her hands folded neatly before her on the table.

‘Perhaps the latter would be best to try first,’ Spock replied, and she nodded in agreement, others following suit. ‘Once we gauge the safety of such operations in an unmanned pod, then sending a crewmember would be a natural progression.’

Jim sat back in his chair, noticing how close Chekov and Sulu were sitting with a wry smile.

‘There are lots of questions to ask, and lots of issues to sort, but we’ll get there eventually. I just wanted to see what you guys thought. You’re free to discuss it with _close_ friends, but I really don’t want this becoming scuttlebutt until we’ve addressed the rest of the crew. Anything else to add right now, anyone?’

There was a chorus of 'no's, and Jim dismissed them, receiving a clap on the arm from Bones and a warm shoulder squeeze from Chris as they left. Eventually, only he and Spock were left, their fingers no longer laced, but brushing together.

‘Well done, ashaya,’ Spock said gently, his eyes soft. ‘There is plenty that we can do to help those on Terra.’

‘Thanks, honey.’ Jim leant up to kiss him chastely, closing his eyes in bliss as their lips met. ‘Let’s go and get the kids. Theo’ll be wondering where his dinner is.’

They walked towards the exit, Spock’s hand resting lightly on the small of his back.

‘Besides,’ Jim said as the doors opened, ‘if we get to the mess early enough, Bones won’t be there to force me to eat a salad.’

‘Bad luck, Jimmy.’

Bones emerged from round the corner, a slightly terrifying glint in his eye.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please comment below if you did! I love reading reviews :) It's Scotty next (finally), then we really haven't got long to go! If anyone fancies catching me over at my tumblr, it's [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), and I hope everyone has a great weekend :)


	31. Straight On 'Til Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many chapters ago, I said I'd get to Scotty eventually. Eventually is here!

Stardate 2261.93. 0932 hours. KL interviewing MS.

It’s taken me a long time to speak to my latest interviewee, given the apparent great demand for him. Montgomery Scott – from all accounts, half engineering-savant, half madman – originally hails from Aberdeen, close enough a neighbour for me to feel an affinity with him, despite the ancient rivalry between our countries. Born in 2222 to an electrical engineer and a technical analyst, he is (or, at least, _was_ ) one of five children. He has not mentioned his four sisters thus far, and I have learnt enough in the past month or so not to mention them either. Amiable and clearly intelligent, he seems relaxed in the chair before me, though he fiddles constantly with a stripped-down communicator, taking it apart and putting it back together as he speaks.

I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Scott.

_[He frowns slightly, though the corners of his lips are still upturned.]_

MS: Well, _that_ sounds ominous. And please call me Scotty. Mister Scott was my da.

Scotty, then. And I don’t mean it to be ominous. I’ve heard a lot of good things – it seems that you were crucial in getting everyone to the Enterprise in the first place, _and_ making sure the ship kept running once you were there.

_[Pink spots appear at the apex of his cheeks, and he shifts uncomfortably.]_

MS: _[muttering]_ Ah, lass, you’re makin’ me blush! I helped out a bit, but everyone chipped in, an’ I couldn’t have done it without my team.

Still, without your expertise, things would have been a lot harder. What was your experience in the beginning?

MS: Three years ago, I was at the Academy in between postings, working on my transwarp theory. When I first started hearing about the Ferals, I ignored what was happening. I shouldn’t have, but I was so damn obsessed with my theory that I decided to stay. _[He looks down sadly.]_ My ma and da were calling, telling me to come home, but I never. Anyway, by the time things got really bad, there was no choice, and I holed up with Keenser in the Academy. We did alright, and you know the rest, but… _[He trails off for a moment, lips tugging down sourly.]_ My family hasn’t been heard from since. I can’t help but wonder whether me being there would have helped.

You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know what was coming – none of us did – and you might well have passed away yourself if you’d been there.

MS: _[quietly]_ Aye.

And while you’ve lost family, you’ve also gained some too. A little birdy told me that you might have a particular communications officer as a girlfriend.

_[His entire demeanour changes, a soft smile spreading across his face as he sits back in the chair.]_

MS: Aye. Nyota and I have been together for almost two years now.

That’s nice. Can you tell me a little bit about what the both of you were doing in the time after Jim suggested sending aid down to the people on Terra?

MS: Sure. I’d spent a while trying to create some transport options in case of an emergency, and I hadn’t been having much success. The transporter network was still down, and deliberately so, which was ridiculous, so the only real option was to modify what we had. I’d been working on setting an autopilot function in the escape pods, and figuring out a way to produce the right kind of fuel for them. The Science lot helped with that as well, of course – Mister Spock and the like.

And Nyota?

_[He smiles again, though it’s a little pained this time.]_

MS: The roles of the Enterprise weren’t as structured as they would have been if Starfleet had been functioning. Nyota had a lot of important jobs, but once we’d figured out how best to tune into radio frequencies, there was one in particular that was necessary.

_[He raises his eyes to mine.]_

MS: She’s a strong woman, my Nyota.

* * *

In spite of all the shit that had gone on in the past year and a half or so, being on the Enterprise had put Scotty right in his element. He’d known and loved this ship since her very conception, having studied her blueprints inside and out since the second he’d been allowed access, awed by the innovative design of her, and the adaptable technology available to him. When he’d been at the Academy, frightened and miserable, and reeling from the knowledge that there was probably no one left in the world that loved him, he’d distracted himself by tinkering with old tech, but he hadn’t done anything particularly productive. Ever since they had decided to leave, however, he’d had endless requests for help, and now that they were on the ship, he had so much to do that he didn’t have time to think about Ma and Da, or his sisters. Now he felt like he had a purpose again. The Enterprise had saved him in more ways than one.

She was not his only saviour though. Every waking – and pretty much every sleeping – moment he was free from his duties, he spent with Nyota. When he had first seen her, he’d thought she was stunning, and while that certainly hadn’t changed, there was so much more between them now. He was still confused why she would want somebody older, and less intelligent than her, somebody like him. She was bright, and beautiful, and he loved her with a fierceness he could scarcely explain, no matter how he tried. She was the great orator, not he, and yet whenever he stammered out his feelings, bleating about how much he was in love with her without the metaphors she could conjure out of thin air, she would kiss him sweetly, her smile lingering in his mind far longer than the taste of her lips.

She was, however, troubled at the moment. His lovely lady – the human one, not the metal – had the hardest job on the ship, in his opinion. Two months before, when the Captain had first made his tentative suggestion, they hadn’t been ready to send down a pod. Since then, Scotty had adapted a few more for their purposes, and Nyota had been given the task of assessing who was in most need on the ground. In the beginning, there had been almost radio silence, but then more and more Terrans had adapted to use old tech. When Nyota wasn’t teaching xenolinguistics to the children, when she wasn’t with him, she was up on that Bridge, listening to them call for aid, a helpless cry in the dark. They couldn’t save them all; most cries for help were because people were being attacked, and they had neither the manpower, nor the weaponry, nor the transportation options to do anything about it. Still, they prepared to send down food, water, and limited medical supplies to smaller groups, and anonymously so.

It took its toll on Nyota; even though she was determined to carry on, to listen to as many pleas as possible, occasionally she would break down. She kept it away from her work, professional to the end, but it hurt him to see her in pain. Seeing how affected she was by the plight of people on the ground had made him work even harder on adapting the pods, stripping them of all unnecessary equipment in order to make more space, and now three were ready.

‘Are you coming to bed at all tonight?’

Scotty turned from the technical manual he was scouring to see Nyota in the doorway, her lovely hair tousled. She rubbed an eye and yawned in her oversized pyjamas, and he felt a warm flush of affection, a fond smile curving his lips.

‘Yes, love,’ he murmured, closing the manual, and walking over to her. ‘I was just going over a few things, checking them.’

‘Everything’s perfect, and you know it,’ she said warmly, looping her arms around his neck.

Kissing him softly, she pulled back with a smile, taking him by the hand to lead him through the room.

‘And it’s long past your bedtime.’

‘I don’t have a bedtime,’ he countered, pulling his shirt over his head as she lay back down, watching him appreciatively.

‘Well, you should. The bed’s cold at night without you.’

She smiled teasingly at him, and he huffed, sliding into the bed beside her once he was down to his boxers.

‘You use me for my body temperature.’

She nodded, grinning, then turned over, wriggling back until he was spooning her.

‘You’re pretty good at making me come too.’

‘Warmth and sex,’ he muttered, slipping his arms around her. ‘Anything else?’

She turned her head to look at him, stroking over his arm.

‘I guess the fact that I love you couldn’t hurt,’ she smiled, and he kissed her more passionately than before, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth before drawing away.

‘I guess not,’ he whispered, tightening his grip around her waist. ‘And I love you too, lass. A stupid amount.’

He heard an amused breath escape her before she settled back into the pillow, her calves rubbing against his shins. He allowed one hand to drift beneath her shirt, stroking slowly over her belly, a finger ghosting against the underswell of her breast as he allowed himself to drift. Today, he and Nyota had had the bairns for a little while, Jim and Spock tied up with preparations for the pod launch, and they’d been good as gold as he got on with his work. When the lads had returned, the children had been so obviously happy to see their parents, and so their parents had been to see them. Seeing the joy the kids brought to Jim and Spock made Scotty wonder what he’d be like as a father, and what Nyota would be like as a mother. She’d be fantastic – he knew that, based on the way she looked after the kids, and the question was out of his mouth before he even realised he’d said it.

‘Do you ever think about what it would be like to have kids?’

She was silent for a long time, her body rigid beside him, and he was worried that he’d upset her. Just as he was about to apologise, though, she spoke, her voice soft and contemplative.

‘Sometimes, but not often. I enjoy being with Liora and Theo, but I don’t think I could deal with that full time – at least not now. Maybe… maybe when I’m older. You?’

‘One day, perhaps,’ he agreed, a hand coming to rest over her belly as he considered how pregnancy would look on her. ‘Not yet.’

She hummed in affirmation, her body curling further into his as she slowly drifted off, asleep far before he was, as usual. He brushed her long hair away as it tickled his nose, and nuzzled into her ear, allowing the steadiness of her breath and the warmth of her body to soothe him into his own rest.

The next morning, he woke to an empty bed. Rolling onto his side, he checked the chrono and cursed himself for waking so early, rubbing his gritty eyes. He didn’t have to wonder where Nyota was for long; as he slowly sat up, Scotty could hear her lovely voice rising above the sound of the shower running, the song bright and catchy despite the unknown language it was in. She’d always been a morning person. He, not so much. Still, he forced himself to sit up, shivering as the duvet sank into his lap and his upper body was exposed to colder air. He heard the shower stop running, and looked towards the fresher door with anticipation, not disappointed when Nyota came wandering out with one towel wrapped around her hair, and the other around her body, an arm slung across her chest as she tried to keep it from loosening.

‘Morning,’ she smiled, entirely too cheery for his liking as she came over to drop a kiss atop his head.

She smelled clean, and vaguely like strawberries, and he couldn’t help but pull her into an embrace, pressing his forehead into her towel covered chest.

‘God, I need coffee. Or whisky. Or _somethin’.’_

She laughed quietly, carding her hand through his hair.

‘You can get some at breakfast. We’re meant to be there early, remember, so we can prepare for the launch?’

_That_ perked him up. Rising from the bed, he gave Nyota a quick kiss before staggering off towards the bathroom, going for a sonic instead of a water shower to save time. When he left the bathroom five minutes later, hopping as he tried to put on his left boot, she watched him from where she was drying her hair with obvious bemusement.

‘We’ve got time yet, you know,’ she yawned, combing out a tangle with her fingers.

‘I know, but I’ve a few more adjustments to make before breakfast.’ He stumbled over for another, longer kiss, stroking over her cheek as he pulled away. ‘I’ll see you in the mess at eight, love.’

‘Be careful,’ she called after him, as she always did.

‘I will!’

Forty-five minutes later, Scotty rushed into the mess, taking his place beside Nyota with a sheepish smile. Across from him sat Jim, Spock and the children, with the Admiral and Amanda there too, all well into their morning meal.

‘Sorry I’m late, everyone,’ he muttered, taking the porridge that Nyota pushed towards him gratefully. ‘Thanks.’

‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it,’ Jim said warmly, wiping some smudged strawberry from Theodore’s face. ‘You got everything sorted?’

‘Yes, sir,’ he replied excitedly. ‘We’re all set for this morning now.’

‘Fantastic.’

‘Fan- _tastic,’_ Liora mimicked, squealing as Jim tickled her under the chin.

‘Careful, pi-veh,’ Spock murmured, reaching out to keep her upright. ‘We do not want you to fall, do we?’

She shook her head decisively, shifting back into the centre of her chair.

‘Would you like a piece of apple?’

‘Yes, please.’

Once Spock had handed her a pre-cut slice, he turned his attention to Scotty, his blank expression as intimidating as ever.

‘We will be tracking the progress of the pod via the Bridge. At no point will it land anywhere overrun by the infected, nor in any place where scavengers could potentially take it apart.’

‘And how will you manage that?’ Amanda asked, her tone curious rather than disbelieving.

Scotty wasn’t sure, but he might have heard Spock’s voice soften a little as he spoke to his mother.

‘Although our scanning equipment is not as useful as it would be if the communications network was enabled, we have enough capability to locate an appropriate area for aid distribution. I have calculated that the supplies contained in the pod can survive from a discharge height of ten metres, which eliminates the risk of sabotage on the ground.’

Amanda nodded, apparently impressed. There was a momentary lull in conversation before the Admiral leant forwards.

‘How much stuff is in those things?’

‘That depends on how you wish to quantify the contents.’

‘In one pod, there’s enough to feed ten people for a month,’ Jim clarified, lifting Theodore onto his lap. ‘We’ve managed to program basic foodstuffs into the replicator as well as full meals, which could potentially stretch further if a group is under siege.’

‘Fantastic,’ the Admiral smiled, turning his gaze on Scotty. ‘And you’ve managed to adapt the pod to do this?’

Scotty felt himself flush, heat rising in his cheeks.

‘Well, yes, but I had a lot of help. It wasn’t only me.’

‘Still, you’ve made an important contribution,’ Pike replied, sitting back in his chair. ‘Well done.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

He felt something soggy touch his hand, and with an expression of distaste, slowly looked down to find Theodore mashing part of a strawberry into his skin with saliva-covered fingers.

‘Theo,’ Jim scolded, wiping them both clean with a tissue pulled from nowhere. ‘What has daddy told you about putting food in your _mouth?_ Sorry, Scotty.’

‘No problem,’ Scotty grimaced, patting a rather worried-looking Theo’s head. ‘It’s fine, laddie.’

‘Are we all ready to go?’ the Admiral asked, rising smoothly from his chair despite the prosthetic.

There was a general murmur of assent, and Scotty nodded as he dropped his spoon into his empty bowl with a clatter.

‘Lead on then, Jim.’

Sweeping his youngest child into his arms with a dazzling smile, their Captain stood and did just that, Spock barely half a metre behind with Liora skipping alongside him. Who’d ever have thought? A Vulcan, quite calmly holding the hand of a skipping child? Perhaps it wasn’t the strangest thing that Scotty had seen in the past year, but he’d still rank it in the top ten. As they walked, Nyota’s fingers tangled with his, long and slim like the rest of her, and he squeezed them gently, relishing in the comfort that she provided before discretion (and necessity) forced them to part.

The pod was being launched from an airlock in the bowels of the ship, not far from the warp core which Scotty lovingly tended on a daily basis, determined not to let its delicate machinery waste away in its disuse. Keenser was already there when he arrived, the others having peeled off to go the Bridge, where the pod would be tracked to its destination. Their job was rather more hands-on, however, and Scotty was glad for it. Jim’s idea it may have been, but this project was Scotty’s baby, and after spending countless hours in refining the pod, he was glad to be the one to launch it.

‘Y’all right, wee one?’ he grinned at Keenser, wincing as he was booted rather forcefully in the shin. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Christ, do your boots have fucking rocks in them?’

Keenser’s beady eyes shone with something akin to glee, and Scotty glared at him, his shin throbbing.

‘Aye, they probably do, you sadist. Have you got everything ready?’

Keenser nodded, activating the touchscreen on top of the pod, and stepping back, gesturing for him to continue.

‘Thanks, Keen.’

He knelt to run diagnostics, thankfully finding everything up to scratch, before unhooking his radio from his belt.

‘Captain?’

‘Go ahead, Scotty,’ came the crackly reply, too loud in the near-silence of the airlock.

‘We’re all set for launch, sir.’

‘Fantastic. Give us five.’

Sitting back on his heels, he heard the click of the radio changing frequencies, Jim’s voice ringing out once more – his Command voice this time, strong and certain.

‘Good morning, everyone. As you know, we’ve been preparing to begin sending aid packages down to vulnerable groups on the planet’s surface. Today, the combined efforts of our engineering and science teams – led by Lieutenant Commander Scott, and Commander Spock respectively – have resulted in success. We’re set to launch in the next few minutes, and hopefully this will be the beginning of something positive for more than just our crew. Kirk out.’

There was another click, then he was addressed once more.

‘Scotty?’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Initiate launch procedure. We’ll be guiding the pod from here.’

‘Aye, sir,’ he repeated, getting to his feet with a pained ‘oof’ as his back clicked.

Stepping out from the airlock, he exchanged a wide-eyed look with Keenser before sealing it off, the hiss of the vacuum seal making his stomach roll with nerves. There was a blaring alarm as the airlock sealed completely, then silence. Keying in the launch code, his finger hovered tremulously over the command button. With his other hand, he brought his radio back up to his lips, clumsily holding down transmit.

‘Launch in five… four… three… two…’

There was no chatter, no footsteps, no noise at all in a place that was usually teeming with activity. It was like the whole crew was holding its breath.

‘One.’

Before he could chicken out, Scotty pushed the button, watching fixatedly as the outer hatch opened, and the pod was sucked out into the open air, its trajectory hidden by the hatch quickly slipping closed again.

‘I’m goin’ up to the Bridge,’ he told Keenser, wanting so badly for it to work. ‘You coming?’

Keenser shook his head, waving his arm dismissively as he started clambering down a ladder into one of the Jeffries tubes.

‘Ahh, suit yourself then.’

Turning on his heel, Scotty began the relatively short journey up to the Bridge, using all the shortcuts he knew to get there as quickly as he could. He was sure they’d have radioed him if something had gone wrong, but in those silent five minutes, he couldn’t help but imagine them waiting for him to get up there to do so. As the doors to the Bridge slid open, however, he knew all that was ridiculous. Nyota turned to him from her station with a radiant smile, her movement catching the attention of Jim, who was leaning over Spock’s station with Theodore still on his hip. Liora was in the Captain’s chair he must recently have vacated, and looking rather smug about it too.

‘Everything’s going to plan,’ Nyota beamed, pointing over to Spock’s station, where a glowing dot was descending on a grid on the reader.

‘Great,’ he breathed, squeezing her shoulder before moving closer to Jim and Spock, letting Theodore clutch his finger as he stared at the screen. ‘How far down?’

‘The pod is six hundred and seventy four point three metres from the ground,’ Spock replied, using the station controls to move the map to a horizontal view. ‘I anticipate discharge in twenty three seconds.’

Scotty watched raptly, ignoring the sting of Theodore’s nails as they bit into his finger, too distracted by that little red dot flashing as it descended. Despite the pull of the chair, Liora came running over and attached herself to Jim’s leg, obviously concerned that she was missing out.

‘Whassat?’

‘It’s the pod dropping food off for people, baby girl,’ Jim said quietly. ‘Hush for a minute, okay?’

‘Discharge imminent,’ Spock announced, his hands flying over the controls.

Theodore let go of Scotty’s finger, but he didn’t notice, holding it up as if nothing had changed.

‘Discharge achieved.’

‘Fantastic,’ Jim grinned, his hand lingering on Spock’s shoulder, slipping over it in something close to a caress. ‘Well done, guys.’

Scotty was elated; the success alleviated a little of the guilt that he was safe up on this gorgeous ship, while God knew how many others were struggling to survive on the planet below. By comparison to what they had previously achieved by coming to Iowa, it was a small victory, and yet, he was proud of everyone who had brought the plan to fruition – including himself. He didn’t need to ask if it was on its way back, because he could see it returning on the reader, that glowing red dot giving him ideas about the next time, about sending more than one at once, about increasing the programmable range of the replicators so they could send different, better supplies.

‘I’m going back down to greet it,’ he declared, wanting to get his ideas down on paper as soon as he could.

‘Sure,’ Jim said absently, eyes fixed on the screen. ‘Let us know once it’s through the airlock?’

‘Of course.’

As he passed Nyota, he beamed at her, whispering ‘See you at lunch… maybe dinner’ as he went.

‘Lunch,’ she insisted quietly, dismissing him with a twitch of her head and a fond smile.

He half-walked, half-ran through the corridors towards Engineering, greeting those he met on the way with a cheery grin, and a call of ‘All right?’, though he was almost always gone before he received an answer.

As he passed the warp core, Keenser emerged from the Jeffries tube with a spanner in hand, hauling himself out of it with a grunt of exertion.

‘Hey, we did it, Keen!’ Scotty crowed, re-opening the hatch, then pausing for a moment. When Keenser continued to look chronically unimpressed, his grin evaporated, replaced by his usual expression of consternation when dealing with his Roylan friend. ‘Oh, you’re not bothered? You’re not bothered. What _are_ you bothered about then, you wrinkly midget?’

Predictably, Keenser swore at him, barely audible above the sound of his boots clanking on metal as he climbed a ladder to the top of one of the pod docking stations.

‘Ah, that’s right, keep usin’ this place as a jungle gym – it’s not like it’s _dangerous_ or anything.’

There was no verbal reply, only a rude gesture as Keenser tottered out of sight. Scotty tutted, but his attention was drawn by the sight of the pod returning, gliding smoothly towards the open hatch. As soon as it had settled inside the ship, the hatch snapped shut, and Scotty unsealed the airlock once more, falling upon the pod like a starving man upon a triple-decker sandwich. When he opened it, the supplies were gone, but the discharge mechanism still seemed to be functioning perfectly.

‘It’s still in one piece!’ he shouted, his heart lifting as he leant back to look for Keenser.

He was sitting on the edge of the docking station, legs swinging, and the only reaction he gave was to raise his brow ridge ever so slightly.

‘You’re not going to ruin my good mood today, you little bugger.’

‘Is it back?’ a delighted voice asked, and Scotty turned to find Johansson, one of his young engineers, dropping her toolkit by another Jeffries tube.

Johansson was bright, and enthusiastic – if a little bit clumsy – and when she dropped cross-legged to dig into the kit, he couldn’t repress a wash of affection for her.

‘Yep, and in perfect condition – which reminds me…’

As she looked on, swearing softly when she dropped a miniature screwdriver into the tube, Scotty called up to Jim.

‘Hi!’ came the voice of a little girl, then cut-off words between static – ‘ora… give… ddy.’ – before Jim spoke. ‘Sorry, Scotty, Liora got hold of it. Is everything okay?’

‘Everything’s great,’ he replied, stepping back to seal the airlock. ‘Pod’s back, everything’s intact, and I have so many ideas about next time.’

‘Me too! We can go over that tomorrow, but I think you deserve a drink, Scotty.’

‘Aye, and so do you, Captain,’ Scotty grinned, despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see it. ‘In a few hours, mind; I think beginning before midday might be bordering on a problem.’

‘True. Lemme just tell the crew, but well done, seriously.’

‘And to you, sir.’

The radio clicked, then Jim’s voice rang out from three of them at once. Wincing, Scotty resolved to concentrate on refining the intercom system.

‘Morning, everyone. I’ve just been informed that the pod we sent out has returned, having successfully discharged supplies to a struggling group on the ground without sustaining any damage. I’m sure you all recognise how good this news is, and we’ll keep you updated on future events. The amount of help that has been offered in doing this has been extraordinary, and I’m extremely proud of you all. Kirk out.’

_That_ was why Scotty liked Jim. He loved his crew almost as much as he loved his kids. When he looked over, Johansson was already in the Jeffries tube, and Keenser was off tightrope-walking the docking bay again, fearless in his exploration. Scotty’s mind was buzzing with ideas, and he didn’t know where to start; he needed to strip one of the replicators, he needed to begin adapting more pods, he needed to- ah! He needed to go and have lunch with Nyota. She always listened when he rattled on about his projects, even it was with an air of fond tolerance rather than active interest.

‘Hey, Keen?’ he called in the vague direction of the docking bay. ‘Want to come to mine for a drink later?’

He didn’t hear a response, but when he looked up, he saw a hand sticking out over the edge, curled into a thumbs-up.

‘Great. Now be careful, both of you.’

There was a sudden bang, followed closely by a whimper, then a strangled affirmation.

‘Yes, sir.’

Scotty leaned over the edge of the Jeffries tube to find Johansson clutching her head, looking sheepishly up at him.

‘Right, off to Medbay.’

‘But-’

‘No, come on,’ he insisted, helping her out. ‘We need to make sure you haven’t got a concussion, lass.’

‘I’m fine,’ she whined, but he ushered her on, only to be accosted by a group of loud, excitable teenagers, all of whom were apparently determined to speak to him at the same time. Sighing internally, he made sure to keep an eye on Johansson so she wouldn’t sneak off, as he tried to answer the questions which – judging by the number of them – must have been saved up for him since the dawn of time. Maybe he wouldn’t mention kids to Nyota for a while. It seemed that he already had a dozen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love writing Scotty and Keenser - and Scotty/Uhura of course! My inspiration for Nyota's latest task was drawn directly from World War Z; it's an amazing book that is definitely worth a read if you get the chance. Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - please comment below if you did! - and my tumblr is [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if anyone fancies checking it out. Hope you all have a good weekend!


	32. The Service Of Our Science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are squeamish, there's some gore between 'The Lieutenants had sliced...' and 'Still, there remained a sense of danger...'
> 
> For Anton Yelchin, who died entirely too soon. You will be missed <3

Stardate 2261.93. 1325 hours. KL interviewing STS.

Scuttlebutt is a wonderful thing, it truly is. While not everything one might hear around the Starbase may be true, hearing one thing enough usually means that it has some basis in truth, however small that basis may be. With Spock and Jim’s blackmailers suspended from the Council, decisions seem to be being made far quicker than before, and more effectively too. Over the past few days, I’ve seen them skulking around the base, heads down, which has apparently done wonders for the spirits of the children, and the mood of their parents. When Spock enters the room today, he is carrying Theo, fast asleep upon his shoulder. I make sure to keep my voice low.

Afternoon.

_[He lowers himself slowly into the chair below him, careful not to wake his son.]_

STS: The human proclivity for stating the obvious never ceases to amaze me.

No, it’s-… never mind. How are the kids?

_[He looks down at the boy cradled against him with an unreadable expression, carefully smoothing down the fabric of his jeans.]_

STS: Better, but not in the same condition as they were before this latest trauma. It is strange; we have protected them from danger for most of their lives, not always without exposing them to a fearful environment, and yet this is what has affected them the most.

_[As Theo snuffles, fingers twitching where they’re tangled in his shirt, Spock’s hand moves to comb through his hair.]_

It’s because they love you. You’ve successfully protected them since they were babies, but you can’t protect them if you’re not there. Most children would be terrified at the thought of having to leave their parents.

_[He nods, just once.]_

STS: Quite.

So, I heard some other news that you might be able to confirm as true?

STS: _[eyebrow quirking] Might_ being the operative word.

A little birdie told me that your father and Jim’s brother will clear infection control in a few days.

STS: Three, if there are no delays.

So it _is_ true.

_[He seems a little discomforted, though I’m not sure why I think that – perhaps a slight stiffening, put I can’t put my finger on it.]_

STS: Yes. It is no surprise, considering the estimated quarantine period.

Want to talk about it?

_[The reply is instant.]_

STS: I do not.

_[I want to ask why, but that clearly isn’t happening.]_

Then I’ve got another question for you. Once all the family reunions and the negotiations are over, what are you going to do?

STS: We have begun discussing our options with the Council. Although our dealings with them have been much smoother since the recent suspensions, we have still not come to a final agreement regarding our future plans.

Why not? Why do they have to agree anyway?

_[Theo whimpers, and Spock cradles him closer, gently shushing him.]_

STS: We cannot settle on Terra, and Jim has an intense mistrust of colonies, as I am sure you will understand. Vulcan, too, is unsuitable; despite the recent generosity shown by my people, I know that there would be little chance of my children being accepted by their peers. Perhaps in the future, when there is more of a Terran presence on-planet, but certainly not yet.

 _[He rocks Theo as he twists in his sleep with unexpected tenderness.]_      

STS: Jim and I are both dedicated to space exploration, and he is determined never to abandon the children as he has previously been abandoned. We will do what we must to keep Liora and Theodore safe.

* * *

‘No.’

‘Bones-’

 _‘No,_ Jim. That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.’

Leonard, his arms folded across his chest, scowled fiercely from behind his desk in Medbay at the two of them. Spock felt Jim’s temper flare at the abrupt dismissal, his idea – though controversial – having been considered very carefully.

‘Why is it?’ he snapped, barely reacting to Spock’s gentle caress against his fingers. ‘If they can be secured, and we can keep them caged, what’s the problem?’

‘Are you _serious?’_ Leonard countered, leaning across the desk. ‘We’ve just got away from all that shit, why in God’s name would you want to bring it to us?’

Jim bristled, and Spock wrapped his hand around his forearm in an attempt to settle him, sending soothing waves of calm through the bond.

‘Why would you want to endanger the kids like that?’

‘Leonard,’ Spock growled, offended for both himself and his bondmate.

That bright flare of anger ignited, and Jim stepped forward, his hands curling into fists.

‘How can you..? Do you think I would do _anything_ to risk my children?’ he snarled, pushing the words through gritted teeth. Spock’s hand slipped from his arm as he placed his hands squarely on the table, leaning towards Leonard until they were barely a foot apart. ‘But other people’s children are dying down there, Bones. And is this all there is? Floating around up here for the rest of our lives, the rest of our children’s and grandchildren’s and great-, great-, great-grandchildren’s lives? There’ll be a scorched earth populated by those fucking locusts, and a pocket of Terrans up here in the sky.’

‘At least we’d all be safe,’ Leonard countered, but his argument was weak, and he was clearly aware of that, judging by his doubtful tone.

As Jim drew in a heavy breath, loud and angry, Spock cut in.

‘This situation cannot be sustained for eternity,’ he said softly, attempting to soothe both of their frayed tempers. ‘In time, the dilithium reserves will run out, and so too will the space available on the ship. The population will eventually outgrow the Enterprise, which will be a crisis of epic proportions.’

Jim nodded, gratitude for his contribution clear through the bond. When he began to speak once more, his voice was quieter, but no less deadly.

‘We’re trying to think in future terms here. It’s fine for you to have reservations, but I’m thinking of my babies’ lives, and don’t you _dare_ accuse me of doing anything but.’

There was a heavy silence in the aftermath of his speech, as Jim stared, defiant, and Leonard looked back with conflicted eyes. After a lengthy pause, Leonard nodded, dropping his gaze for a few seconds before affixing it on Jim, wearing a rather softer expression than before.

‘Look, Jimmy, I’m sorry, all right?’ he said gently, leaning back in his chair. ‘I know how much you love the kids. You’re an amazing daddy – both of you are – and I didn’t mean to imply anything but. But you’ve got to understand that not everyone is going to be jumping for joy at the idea of bringing the infected up here. Aid packages are great, but there’s minimal risk involved, unlike with this.’

Jim’s ire had visibly evaporated, and he slumped back into the chair he had kicked away from Leonard’s desk.

‘I know. I’m sorry I flew off the handle, but this is so important, Bones.’

‘We would not be transporting dozens of the creatures, Leonard,’ Spock added, welcoming the renewed calm which had settled in Jim’s mind. ‘Perhaps one, at first, would suffice for testing purposes.’

‘What does Pike think?’

‘He agrees, but says we need to be careful,’ Jim replied softly. He leant into Spock, who skimmed a hand discreetly over his thigh. ‘Bones, I promise you, everything will be planned with military precision. I’m not half-assing this, not when there’s so much at stake.’

Leonard nodded, anxiously gnawing on his lower lap between words.

‘What makes you think anyone here would be able to crack it anyway?’

‘Ah, c’mon.’ Jim waved his hand casually. ‘We’ve got some of the brightest minds in the country, and that includes you and Spock. I’m sure Christine will be able to help out too. Who knows, it might take years, but at least we’d be trying-’

Jim cut himself off as there came a knock on the door, and when Leonard called for them to enter, Liora came scampering in beneath Amanda’s arm.

‘Hello, slor-veh,’ Spock said warmly, lifting her easily onto his lap as she launched herself at him, babbling relentlessly.

‘Sa-mekh, sa-mekh, I did a drawing, I did it with paint, do you and daddy and Uncle Bones want to see my drawing?’

He kept a guiding hand on her back to steady her as she shifted, kicking him accidentally in the knee. Repressing a wince, he let his expression soften as he looked down at her, that familiar flush of affection taking hold.

‘Of course, pi-veh. Have you brought it with you?’

‘Oh.’

Her face fell, and she shook her head, evidently crestfallen. Her pigtails were drooping, the elastic that held them in place apparently no match for her energetic movements.

‘Never mind, sweetie; we can look at it later,’ Jim said gently, greeting Amanda with a warm smile.

His expression dimmed a little, and panic flared, panic which caught Spock too as Jim took in only his mother.

_Theodore._

‘Mother, where is-’

There was a squeal of laughter from Medbay, and Theodore came tottering in with Lewinsky close behind, something crumpled in his chubby fist.

‘Dada,’ he babbled, staggering drunkenly towards Jim.

‘Hey, Teddy Bear,’ Jim cooed, pressing noisy kisses against his brow as he lifted him. ‘Thanks, Amanda. Alfie. I didn’t know you were helping out today.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Lewinsky said softly, his bashful gaze, as ever, trained upon a flushed Leonard. ‘I was just coming to see Leo, and I ran into Amanda and the kids.’

Spock’s mother smiled, combing her fingers through Liora’s unruly hair.

‘I was grateful for the help. The terrible twosome are fond of running in different directions.'

‘And don’t we know it?’ Jim grinned, before turning his attention back to Lewinsky, a wicked spark of humour apparent in both the bond and his eyes. ‘So, what were you coming to see Bones for?’

His cheeks growing steadily pink, Lewinsky shrugged.

‘I had a little free time.’

‘Uh huh,’ Jim said airily, and as he took a breath in to speak once more, he was interrupted by Theodore.

‘Dada!’ he babbled, holding out the crushed square of fabric in his hand – velvet, Spock believed.

‘Very nice, Theo,’ Jim crooned, bouncing him gently. ‘Are you going to show Sa-mekh?’

‘Mekh!’

‘It has a pleasing texture, does it not?’ Spock said indulgently, sweeping his fine hair out of his eyes.

‘Can you stay quiet for a little while, Teddy Bear? The grown-ups need to talk.’

Theodore did not acknowledge him, consumed by the velvet he clutched between his hands, but Liora put her finger to her lips obediently.

‘Good girl,’ Jim smiled, twisting round to look at the newcomers. ‘Do you guys mind sitting down for a minute? I just want to get your opinion on something.’

‘Of course,’ Amanda replied, settling on top of a free desk against the wall.

Lewinsky dropped wordlessly into a chair on Spock’s right, watching Jim expectantly.

 _I believe my mother will be supportive,_ Spock asserted, pulling a tissue from the box on Leonard’s desk with one hand as the other prevented Liora from wiping her dripping nose with her fist. _I am more uncertain about Ensign Lewinsky._

 _He’s been pretty receptive to new ideas before_.

Jim repeated the explanation he had given to Leonard twenty minutes before, and in the aftermath, Spock studied the reactions of his mother and Lewinsky carefully. His mother, having spent thirty years upon a planet where emotional expression was reviled, seemed relatively neutral.

‘You think we can make a difference?’ she asked, and when Jim nodded, she echoed him. ‘As long as everything is very carefully controlled, I have no objections.’

Spock had seen a spark of fear in Lewinsky’s eyes while Jim had been talking, but by the time he turned away from his mother, it had gone, though nerves still remained in his expression.

‘I can’t say I’m thrilled with the idea, but if… if we manage to crack it, then that would be amazing. And I trust you guys to do it right.’

His gaze flickered over both of them, then he nodded resolutely, sitting back in his chair.

‘As long as we can keep everyone safe, I’m in.’

‘Thanks, guys,’ Jim murmured, and Spock exchanged a glance with his mother, who couldn’t quite conceal her apprehension. ‘We’ll have to send down a crewmember or two to subdue one… tie it up or remove the jaw, that sort of thing.’

Leonard looked rather queasy, despite his occupation, but he managed to contain any further concerns he might have had.

‘When do you think this is going to happen?’ he asked, a wrinkle appearing in his forehead.

‘There is no set timeline,’ Spock replied, letting Liora slide from his lap to retrieve a toy from the box in the corner of the office. ‘We must first brief our officers, then the remainder of the crew, before planning will commence.’

‘We certainly have the transportation now,’ Jim added absently. ‘And the ability to track a Feral in isolation.’

As was his habit, Spock had already considered all of the elements which would need to be carefully thought out, all of the factors which could possibly lead to failure, and yet, in summation, he believed that the benefits would outweigh the risks. Their children deserved to have a home planet to return to, and the remaining people of Terra deserved to be free of the nightmare in which they were living.

‘Sa-mekh, I need a wee-wee,’ Liora announced loudly, interrupting his thoughts as she tugged on his sleeve, squirming.

‘Aaaand, I think that’s time for us to go,’ Jim laughed, settling Theodore on his hip. ‘We’ll keep you updated, and if you’ve got any suggestions, please let us know.’

Leonard waved them away dismissively, and Spock lifted Liora into his arms to prevent her speed leading to an unfortunate accident.

‘Thanks for looking after the kids, guys,’ Jim called behind them, lagging behind as Spock began striding purposefully towards one of the freshers, all too aware that he hadn’t time to waste.

_Honey, I’ll meet you in Rec Room Three, okay? I’ve got a meeting to call._

_Yes, t’hy’la,_ Spock dutifully replied, herding his daughter into a cubicle. _I will be there shortly._

A warm feeling similar to a caress passed over him, then Jim was gone.

That evening, after hours of discussion with various members of the officer class and Bridge Crew, Spock lay with Jim on their bed. They had both showered, and while he had utilised the sonic function, Jim had – as per usual – decided on water, and was now covered only with a towel around his waist, skin still slick in places. Spock watched hungrily as a droplet traced the bulge of his bicep, and he reached out to follow its progress with his hand, caressing the soft skin warm from the residual heat of the water, feeling a thrill of arousal as he did so. The children were asleep for now, and Jim’s smile was slow and seductive as he shifted closer, pliant under Spock’s caress.

‘So that’s how it is, huh?’ he said softly, the white cotton gradually beginning to unravel.

Lifting his chin, he pressed his lips to Spock’s, and Spock welcomed the kiss with fervour, the hand on Jim’s arm sliding up to cup his cheek. The kiss was easy and unhurried, their knowledge of one another’s bodies smoothing the way they came together, and when he gently bit down on Jim’s lower lip, Jim gasped into his mouth.

‘Ashaya,’ Jim whispered hotly, pulling away enough to speak. He laid his hand over Spock’s own, eyes wide and sincere. ‘Thank you for supporting me today. I don’t know what I’d have done if you had disagreed.’

‘You do not need to thank me, t’hy’la,’ Spock murmured, barely able to resist the pull of his soft, flushed lips. ‘You are not only my husband and my bondmate, but an extremely adept Captain, and I trust that you will protect the crew.’

‘Damn right I will,’ Jim breathed, his towel slipping further as he shifted.

Feeling arousal begin to pool in his stomach, Spock kissed him once more, licking into his mouth and tangling his tongue with Jim’s own. When he lapped over Jim’s palate, his t’hy’la shuddered, the bond singing with desire.

 _I want you so bad,_ he panted, grinding into Spock’s awakening erection.

_Yes, adun._

The feel and smell and sheer receptiveness of his beloved was an aphrodisiac in itself, and when Jim pulled away from the kiss to gasp for air, Spock rolled him onto his back, settling over him on all fours. The towel had loosened to the point of uselessness, barely draped over Jim’s crotch, and so when Jim consented, he impatiently removed it, attaching his lips to the hinge of Jim’s jaw. Jim’s breath was already heavy, and it hitched as he moved to take a soft earlobe between his teeth.

‘Stop teasing,’ Jim whined, the full length of his perfect body stretched bare beneath him. ‘Little Jimmy hasn’t got the patience for it.’

‘Perhaps not so little,’ Spock replied innocently, sliding his hand down Jim’s tight abdominals towards his cock, rising thick and red towards his navel.

He traced a finger over the whole quivering length of it, and Jim’s breath stuttered accordingly, his hips twitching towards Spock’s faint touch.

**_Please,_ ** _honey._

_Just a little longer, taluhk-veh._

Giving him a conciliatory stroke, Spock leant down to swallow his cry of protest as he removed his hand, then began kissing a trail down his neck, sucking a soft pink mark into the juncture of his shoulder. Jim’s arms looped around him, one hand threading into his hair as the other smoothed over his back, and when Spock latched gently onto a nipple, he let out a sound that was almost a sob.

‘Spock,’ he whined, hitching a knee up against his waist, his back arching.

Spock suckled softly, weathering Jim’s bucking and squirming with gentle, restraining hands, his mouth working to drive him to distraction. The pyjama pants he had donned after his shower were beginning to feel rather tight as Jim cried out, his swollen cock wetting the fabric through as it strained against his waistband, and it was beginning to become rather painful. He pulled back when Jim tugged lightly at his hair, only to find himself being guided into a tender kiss, short and sweet. When they parted, Jim was panting, eyes half-lidded. His chest was flushed, nipples wet and swollen, and when Spock ghosted the pad of his finger over the left, he moaned weakly.

‘Pants off,’ he said hoarsely, hooking his finger in the waistband, but going no further. ‘I can feel them hurting you.’

Loath to separate their bodies, Spock removed them rather awkwardly, the catch of his erection on the waistband forcing a groan from his throat. He took Jim in hand as soon as he had settled, feeling a tug of arousal at Jim’s quiet whimper as he squeezed. Jim’s penis pulsed in his hand, a hot bead of precome welling in the slit as he stroked it gently, the warm softness against his sensitive skin sending sparks of pleasure from his fingers to his groin.

‘Together,’ Jim breathed, reaching for him.

Spock let out a ragged sigh as Jim’s cool hand tugged expertly at his cock; once, twice, three times. When Jim let go, he took both of their erections in hand, and they both moaned at the exquisite feeling, a flush spreading across Jim’s face.

‘Like the first time,’ Spock said softly, letting emotion spill into his voice as he slowly began to stroke them together.

‘Mmm, and still so good,’ Jim moaned, hips rolling into his tight grip. ‘Love you so much.’

_Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, adun._

Spock allowed himself to make his desire known as they pushed and rubbed together, little exclamations of pleasure escaping him as his dripping cock slicked the way between them, his hand working faster.

‘T’hy’la,’ Jim whimpered, pushing his swollen cock harder through Spock’s tight fist. He was beautiful in his passion, his hands trailing unceasingly over Spock’s chest and arms as he writhed beneath him. _‘Spock.’_

‘Las’hark,’ Spock purred, reaching down to tug gently at his sac as his other hand worked itself into a blur.

Jim’s ensuing mewl only bolstered his arousal, his stomach beginning feel increasingly tight, and he pitched forward to press their lips together, kissing Jim with a passion he hadn’t known he could produce until they met. He could feel that Jim was as close to climax as he was, the bond growing brighter between them, and as their lips moved deeply together, he felt a tidal wave of pleasure beginning to build. Jim tore away from the kiss only to press his face into the crook of his neck, whimpering with abandon as he rocked desperately into his hand, breathing harshly.

 _‘Please,_ ’shaya, please make me come.’

‘Yes, beloved,’ Spock said roughly, kissing Jim’s temple as his free hand rose to cradle his head.

His fingers slid through fine, soft hair, his thumb brushing over a meld point teasingly as climax loomed dizzyingly close, his body aching for release.

‘Yes,’ Jim gasped, arching into him, and Spock obliged him with a partial meld, finding his pleasure point with the ease of hundreds of couplings, and stimulating it mercilessly.

Despite his own all-consuming desire, he was determined to watch Jim unravel, his t’hy’la always breathtaking in his climax. That night was no different; as pleasure exploded across the bond, Jim cried out and arched beautifully, warm semen pulsing thickly over Spock’s hand. He fell limp in the afterglow, obviously satisfied, and once Spock had wrung the last bead of come from his cock, he batted his hand away.

‘C’mere, honey,’ Jim murmured, taking hold of his erection and stroking it quickly. ‘Let me take care of you.’

His voice was a soft, loving drawl, and Spock found himself aroused by it as much as by his familiar, talented hands, a stuttered moan falling from his lips.

‘That’s it, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You going to come for me, t’hy’la? Come for me.’

As Jim’s thumb rubbed over the ridges of his cock, he felt a sharp burst of pleasure, spilling over Jim’s hand with a choked sob of his name. His climax lasted for an indeterminate amount of time, but long enough for Jim to have pulled him into his arms without him noticing, cradling him gently. When he came back to himself, the bond was thrumming with contentment, and he lay in Jim’s arms, pleasantly warm. He nuzzled into Jim’s neck with a soft sigh, knowing that they should probably wipe themselves clean before the semen dried on their skin, but caring remarkably little for the moment.

‘You good?’ Jim asked quietly, ghosting a kiss against the point of his ear.

Spock shivered with residual arousal, his leg slipping between Jim’s as he shifted.

‘More than good, ashayam,’ he murmured, curling is hand around the swell of Jim’s bicep. ‘Are you?’

Jim let out a breathy laugh, warm air breezing across his crown.

‘Always. Ugh, we should probably get cleaned up.’

Spock nodded reluctantly, beginning to lever himself from Jim’s body.

‘No, no, you wait here, it’s okay.’

He slumped back against the bed gratefully, his hand sliding down Jim’s arm in a lingering caress as he went. He drifted as Jim gently cleaned him off, feeling the bed shift as his bondmate returned to his side, and found himself guided onto his side. Jim moulded himself against him, an arm curling possessively around his chest, and his lips brushing the nape of his neck.

 _I love you,_ Spock breathed, letting his heavy eyelids fall closed.

Jim pressed a short trail of kisses against his back, his lips curving into a smile that Spock could feel against his skin.

‘Love you too. Now go to sleep. I get the feeling that we’ll have a lot of arguing to do tomorrow.’

 _And the next day, and the day after that,_ Spock replied blithely, resigning himself to the inevitability of controversy. _And yet, it will be worth it. Goodnight, beloved._

_Night, honey._

* * *

It hadn’t been merely two days of arguments; in fact, it had been weeks. This was the first time since they had left Terra that danger had become a possibility, and understandably, not all of the crew were pleased about it. Jim had worked endlessly to assuage their fears, keeping an open door policy during the day for anyone who had concerns, and remaining absolutely honest throughout, his unshakable convictions and faith in the crew doing much for his cause. There remained those who were against the testing, mostly due to the possibility of a renewed spread of infection, but plans had been developed nonetheless. Though Jim was no tyrant, his leadership fair and sympathetic, there was no true democracy on the Enterprise. They could not, in their situation, afford it.

Throughout the negotiating period, Jim had worked closely with Mister Scott and his subordinates in order to secure the brig for containment purposes, and to adapt one of the escape pods for transportation of something immune to threats of violence, or other repercussions. Security, too, had been briefed, and although Cadet Lewinsky had initially volunteered for the role of captor among others, Lieutenants Giotto and Baker had been chosen for it. Spock suspected that Jim and the Admiral’s choice had been something to do with Leonard’s objections, his relationship with Lewinsky – though confusing to Spock, and evidently hurting both of them in its unrequited nature – close enough for him to speak up.

With everything prepared, Spock found himself on the Bridge at Jim’s side, holding his son. Liora was on Jim’s knee, quite content to play quietly with her stuffed bear as they spoke, but Theodore was squirming in Spock’s arms. Now nineteen months old, he was rather active, and was in the habit of running away when set down. He never went far, though, always making sure Spock or Jim was in sight, and while Spock knew that his hesitancy may have been due to traumatic early experiences, it prevented him from getting hurt.

‘Dada, down,’ he grumbled, back arching in an attempt to free himself. ‘I wun.’

‘You must stay with me for the moment, Theodore,’ Spock patiently explained, pulling a toy starship from his pocket. ‘You may run later.’

‘I _wun,’_ he whined, but Spock only held him tighter, flying the starship into his hand.

‘Be good, Theo,’ Liora snapped, twisting round on Jim’s lap to face him.

 _He’s cranky today, huh?_ Jim murmured, humour in his tone.

When their son continued to sulk, Jim reached up to tuck a lock of golden hair behind his ear, thumb swiping across his cheek.

‘Listen to your sister, baby. If you’re a good boy and stay with Sa-mekh, then maybe we can read Goodnight Moon with Liora tonight.’

‘Buh!’ Theodore squealed, waving the starship around excitedly.

‘Yes, Teddy Bear – _book,’_ Jim cooed, before turning his attention to his radio. ‘Scotty, how’s everything down there?’

‘Everything’s going fine, sir. The guys are here and prepared, and we’ve got the approximate coordinates locked in.’

‘Fantastic. Can we get started up here then?’

‘Yep, everything’s ready.’

‘We’ll get launch set up then,’ Jim replied, which was Spock’s cue to return to his station.

Upon his arrival, his mother lifted Theodore from his arms – an action which inspired a displeased peep from his son – and he nodded gratefully at her.

‘I’ll be keeping a tight hold, don’t you worry,’ she murmured, gesturing towards his screen. ‘Have you managed to isolate one?’

‘One has isolated itself,’ Spock corrected gently, fingers flying across the controls. ‘Trajectory map online, Captain.’

There would be no grand speech today; at least, not yet. There was a restless turmoil that endured in certain crewmembers, and there was no use in announcing to them anything but success.

‘Hear that, Scotty?’

‘Yes, sir. Counting down. Launch in five, four, three, two… one.’

There was nothing on the Bridge to signify the pod’s successful release, but Spock could see its coordinates begin to shift onscreen as it slowly approached the glowing dot which Spock had identified as an isolated Feral. It had been alone for nine point seven five hours now, which he hypothesised was due to entrapment of some sort; that was an opportunity they could exploit.

‘The escape pod is on-course, Captain,’ he called, only to find Jim at his shoulder a moment later, and Liora at his knee.

‘There she is,’ Jim breathed, his warm breath ghosting across Spock’s ear as he bent to look at the screen. ‘I hope they’re having an all right time in there. I know we did test runs, but it might not be the same as the real thing.’

Spock nodded absently, his hand brushing lightly over Liora’s crown as she pressed her head into his hip.

‘I am certain that the test-runs will hold true.’

Jim said nothing more, his thoughts a series of suppressed ‘what-ifs’ that Spock barely had time to address before they disappeared. Time ticked away as the two small dots converged, the Bridge silent apart from Theodore’s oblivious babbling, but even he was more quiet than usual. Spock could sense Jim’s frustration as the dots blinked away, revealing nothing about what was occurring down on Terra.

After five long, quiet minutes, the dot began moving again. Spock watched as it slowly ascended, their continued difficulty with communication range preventing them from contacting Giotto and Baker for their status. Jim’s tension was palpable, and when his radio finally began to crackle with static, his fingers briefly bit into Spock’s shoulder.

‘Come in Enterprise,’ they heard, the voice fuzzy and unclear.

‘Yeah, Giotto, we hear you!’

‘The infected is secured, live and kicking, but it hasn’t got to us, thank God.’

Relieved, Spock turned to look at Jim, whose smile was wide and dazzling.

‘Great work, Lieutenants,’ he praised, exchanging a pleased glance with Spock. ‘And I can see you’re on your way back up now. We’ll come and meet you.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Stepping back so that Spock could stand, Jim knelt in front of Liora.

‘Sweetpea, Sa-mekh and I have to go meet somebody,’ he explained, taking hold of her hands. ‘Can you listen to me for a second?’

She nodded emphatically, large green eyes staring up at him solemnly.

‘Okay. We need you to stay with Nana until we come back. That’s really important. Can you do that for us?’

‘Yeah, daddy,’ she whispered, and Jim kissed her forehead, ruffling her hair.

‘Good girl.’

‘Would you like to sit in daddy’s chair, pi-veh?’ Spock asked, and she grinned, running off towards it.

‘Careful,’ Jim warned, hurrying off to lift her.

Turning to his mother, whose gentle frown was indicative of her nerves, Spock addressed her.

‘Are you willing to watch the children while we ensure that the subject is secured?’

‘Of course,’ she said softly, hitching Theodore up in her arms.

He was quiet now, the toy clutched tightly in his fist, and Spock reached out to smooth his hair back, drawing two fingers down his cheek.

‘We will be back soon,’ he promised, looking to make sure that Liora was where she should be. ‘Thank you, mother.’

He followed Jim from the Bridge as the dot continued to arc smoothly upwards, moving closer and closer towards the Enterprise. There was tension in Jim’s shoulders as they walked, his mind buzzing with fears he would not express, and although Spock wished nothing more than to take him in his arms and comfort him, he knew it would neither be appropriate, nor helpful. Jim was driven, determined, and wished to see this through, and all Spock could do was support him to do that. He did not speak, but he let his hand rest briefly on the small of his back in a show of support. Jim’s gaze flicked to his, a small, painful smile crossing his face.

The corridors were entirely empty, all the children shut tightly away by their parents and siblings, no crewmembers to be seen in the recreation rooms or the mess. Although the element of danger was rigorously controlled, it was natural that what the crew had experienced would cause them to fear this renewed exposure. However, that did not prevent a sense of uneasiness overtaking Spock, reminiscent of how he had felt the first time he had stepped out from the music hall, finding a normally bustling campus devoid of life. He felt his heart begin to beat faster, adrenaline beginning to release, and he brutally suppressed his body’s panicked reaction, forcing himself back to homeostasis. There was no use in allowing it to take over, particularly when there was no true threat.

When they reached the airlock in which the escape pod rested, Mister Scott greeted them with a tight smile, flanked by Lewinsky and three more members of the Security team, their trepidation written clear across their faces. Each carried a phaser, and three held adapted containment devices – three-foot long metal rods with a hoop on the end, which could be tightened via a button on the side, locking into place. Spock withdrew his phaser as Jim did, watching the pod door lift up and sideways, the familiar hiss of it muffled even to him by the airlock door. Lieutenant Giotto stepped out first, with a short nod towards them, then Baker, his young face flushed with triumph. When it became apparent that nothing else was going to emerge on its own, Jim gave the order to open the airlock, and the Lieutenants stepped out.

‘Awesome job, guys,’ Jim smiled, gesturing to Nurse Chapel as she arrived in Engineering. ‘Will you go with Christine to be examined?’

‘Of course, sir,’ Giotto said respectfully, and Baker nodded in agreement. ‘It’s in the trunk. It can’t bite anymore.’

‘Great. Thanks, guys. And thank you, Christine.’

‘No problem,’ she smiled, shooing the pair off towards Medbay. ‘Just keep that thing secure, yeah? I don’t want it anywhere near Janice.’

‘Neither do I,’ Jim assured her, nodding towards the Lieutenants. ‘Quick, before they get away.’

‘They’re not you, Jim,’ she called back, without turning round, and Jim smirked as he refocused his attention on the pod.

‘Right, come on then. Scotty, lock us in.’

Mister Scott stared incredulously at him.

‘You what?’

‘If this goes south, I don’t want you or anybody else getting killed,’ Jim said firmly, and the engineer complied accordingly. ‘I’ll open the trunk, but you four be ready, all right?’

Jim stood to the rear of the trunk, and the Security members arranged themselves to the front and sides, their weapons trained upon the pod. At Jim’s behest, Spock stood a few feet back with his phaser out, close enough to snatch his t’hy’la up should the situation deteriorate. With a flick of his wrist, Jim unlocked and flung open the trunk, and the Feral inside stood slowly. It seemed once to have been a male, its ravaged body naked but for a strip of cloth across its chest, and the remains of what may have been board shorts, the truth taken by time. The Lieutenants had sliced the creature’s jaw clean off, red-black viscera hanging from sunken cheeks, and the upper mandible unmoving with nothing to clamp down onto. Still, there remained a sense of danger, and Lewinsky quickly secured it, the hoop tightening into a stranglehold that was soon followed by another, forcing it into submission.

Spock’s finger itched on the trigger of his phaser. Here was a vile, unredeemable thing, whose cousins had murdered so many, had done so without guilt or pain or remorse, and Spock could hear the thunder of his heart in his ears. The instinct to protect his mate had gone into overdrive, and even seeing it restrained did little to prevent him from wanting to keep Jim hidden away with the children, far from this evil. Forcing himself to ignore his primitive urges, he looked to Jim, who was staring, unblinking, at the creature.

_T’hy’la?_

There was a subtle jolt as Jim came back to himself, and he directed the Security team to bring the Infected out, guiding Spock in front of him as he led the way. Though it could no longer snap its jaws, and its hands were bound like its neck, Spock still found himself glancing back, hair rising on his nape. There were no interruptions on their short journey to the brig, and once inside, the Security team secured it against the wall, almost tripping over themselves in the haste to get away from it once that was done. Jim dismissed them with gratitude as he called up to the Bridge with a status update, and they filed from the room, leaving the two of them alone.

‘Tomorrow,’ Jim said heavily, once the call was done. He stared at the chained creature with unreadable eyes, phaser still clutched in a white-knuckled fist. ‘They can start on it tomorrow.’

Spock nodded, reaching for him, and finding him pliant beneath his hand.

‘Come, ashayam. We do not need to be here any longer.’

Spock took one last look at the creature as they left the brig, double-checking that the room was secure as they went. Its eyes followed them until they were out of sight, at which point, Spock’s radio crackled.

‘Spock?’

He could hear wailing children behind his mother’s voice, and he and Jim shared a moment of frozen panic, Jim’s hand on his sleeve.

‘What is wrong?’

‘Nothing- nothing, they’re fine, don’t worry,’ she said hurriedly, and a little of the tightness in Spock’s chest went away. ‘I’m just letting you know that I’ve taken the kids to your quarters because they got pretty upset after you left.’

‘We are coming,’ Spock assured her, by which time, Jim was already directing him towards the nearest turbolift.

 _Do you think they’re all right?_ Jim fretted, despite Amanda’s reassurances. _They weren’t crying when we left._

 _I am sure that they are fine, beloved,_ Spock soothed, punching in their floor number. _They were probably concerned when we didn’t return immediately, and the atmosphere was tense in the extreme._

Jim nodded, though his anxiety remained uncomfortably present.

_They are pretty perceptive._

When Spock’s sensitive hearing picked up the sound of crying from down the corridor, his chest tightened, and he and Jim sped up without a word, a sharp rap on the door announcing their entrance before Jim overrode the door code. Inside, Spock’s obviously distressed mother was sat in the chair beside their bed, juggling both red-faced, wailing children on her lap. As she looked up, she visibly wilted with relief, gaining Liora’s attention with a gentle nudge.

‘Look, sweetie. I told you they were okay.’

Jim held his arms out, and Liora spluttered miserably, stumbling straight into them. Her brother had not noticed them come in, still consumed by his own misery, but when Jim began gently shushing Liora, he turned from where his face was buried in Amanda’s shoulder. Whimpering pitifully, his face streaked with tears, he reached for his father. His heart squeezing in his side, Spock lifted his crying son into his arms, closing his eyes as he rocked him gently.

‘Shhh, pi-veh t’nash-veh,’ he whispered, hearing the wild cries begin to die down as he suffused the bond with calm, transmitting what he could of it to Theodore. ‘I have you, my son.’

 _They’ve gotten so worked up,_ Jim said mournfully, and as Spock opened his eyes, he met those that were conflicted. _Maybe we should have called back a few times._

 _Theodore would not have noticed,_ Spock reminded him gently, pressing his lips against the fine hair on his son’s head. ‘Mother, thank you for looking after them.’

‘We’re sorry you had such a hard time,’ Jim added, volume approaching normal as the din subsided.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said firmly, allowing Spock to help her up. ‘I’m just happy that my darlings have stopped crying – isn’t that right?’

She tickled Liora beneath the chin, who let out a tearful burst of laughter, hiding her face in Jim’s neck.

‘Are you doing anything this afternoon?’ Jim asked, hitching Liora up.

‘If their parents will let them out of their sight, I should be teaching a class, and relatively soon too.’

‘We shall see you at dinner, then,’ Spock said warmly, reaching out for a familial Vulcan kiss before she left the room, blowing kisses to the children.

‘Bye, ‘Manda,’ Jim called after her, grinning as Liora copied him. ‘Tired, baby girl? How about a little nap?’

She grumbled non-commitally, and Jim threw a silent _‘Yep’_ over to Spock as he carried her through to the children’s bedroom, the soft, pleasant sound of singing coming through the open passage between them. As Theodore quieted, Spock cradled him close, pressing his nose into sweet-smelling hair. In a moment, he would take the baby through to rest with his sister, but for now, he enjoyed this sweet second of peace. When he felt a gentle, questioning pull from Jim, he went willingly to find his beloved, blinking away the vision of filmy eyes watching them, the creature’s head shifting slowly from side to side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys have had a great week! Normally, I'd spend this section thanking you for comments, or sharing my tumblr with you, but while I am eternally grateful for your support, right now, this is really important.
> 
> WARNING: POLITICS
> 
> Something horrible has happened in my country today - the EU referendum has been won by a hair by the leave voters, which is absolutely terrifying. I know that most people my age voted remain, but there wasn't a high enough turnout. However, as only 51.9% of voters chose leave, there's a petition going around to call upon the government to have a second referendum. I know most of you won't be from the UK, so can't sign it, but PLEASE, share this petition with anyone you know who can: https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/131215
> 
> There's also a post on tumblr you can reblog: http://allthingsadlock.tumblr.com/post/146396395117/to-anyone-living-in-the-uk
> 
> I know some of you might not be interested, but this is something that will drastically change my future and the future of all the other young people in my country, so please, if you can sign, that would be fantastic - if not, please share. Thank you very much.


	33. With Splendour Fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, what a rollercoaster this past fortnight has been. I really hope you enjoy this latest chapter, guys!

Stardate 2261.94. 0952 hours. KL interviewing JTK.

As Jim greets me quite amicably this morning, it occurs to me that my time with the crew of the Enterprise will – relatively soon – be coming to a close. Although he has not yet confirmed it, I believe that Jim will continue to travel across the galaxy, his husband and children in tow, while the rest of the crew may choose between settlement and space exploration. Before the Plague, I would have expected that most families with children would decide to stay on-planet, but now… now, I’m not entirely sure. He is uncommonly alone, the children with Nyota and Scotty today, while Spock and his mother visit the quarantine sector to ascertain Sarek’s progress. It strikes me, rather suddenly, that without these people, Terra may well have become entirely overrun.

Jim, who was it who worked on the vaccine?

_[Apparently startled by this new topic, he raises his eyebrows, shifting more upright in his chair.]_

JK: Pretty much the entirety of Medical and the Sciences were involved, working almost round the clock.

Did you order them to do that?

_[He shakes his head, smiling.]_

JK: I sent out a general appeal for help, but I didn’t expect the response that we got. We have a lot of bright minds on that ship – a hell of a lot – and at the time, we didn’t have much that was stimulating for them to do. For a scientist with a lot of time on their hands, it was heaven.

So, how did it work?

JK: The testing? We had all but one of our labs running with it at the same time, and there was no particular beginning or end to the day. Spock would often be there in the wee hours while we were all asleep, and so were a few other night owls. Despite the fact that there was no _[his fingers make speech marks in the air]_ deadline, and no true urgency for us, many of the crew recognised that the people on the ground were in dire need, and finding a cure would alleviate a lot of the pressure.

You didn’t have any leads?

JK: Well, Christine, Bones, and Spock knew the most. Christine especially, and she was a great help for everyone who worked on it. She has a background in bio-research, and she was fantastic at explaining herself to our less experienced crewmembers. Naturally, people went to her for help and guidance, but Spock and Bones too. They were the driving force behind it all.

How long did vaccine formulation take?

JK: _[huffing out a breath through his nose]_ God, _months._ We were beginning absolutely from scratch, with no real idea of what this thing was. Spock and Bones would have endless arguments (even if Spock called them discussions) about viral load, and host cells, and whatever other issue they were concentrating on that day, but at least those arguments yielded something useful.

Before all this, it might have taken months for a whole _company_ to come up with something similar.

_[He nods, his incredulous eyes meeting mine.]_

JK: I know. To me, it’s nothing short of a miracle, but like I said, there are a lot of very bright people on my ship.

It must have dominated on the Enterprise for all that time.

JK: It was certainly a big part of the daily routine, but life went on for everybody else too. The children needed to be taught, supplies needed to be dropped, the warp core needed to be maintained… and that’s just all the work stuff. People had private lives too.

I can imagine that being safe would have made the crew feel enough at ease that they could create more solid friendships. Relationships too.

_[Jim smiles, a far-away expression in his eyes.]_

JK: For some people, that was certainly true. Not everyone felt that way, though.

* * *

‘I’m not going to wake up in the middle of the night again and find you gone, am I?’

Jim’s question was soft, yet plaintive, his pleading eyes searching for his husband’s in the lowlight. Spock rose from the cross-legged position that he had been in, his meditation having finished for the night only moments before, and walked bare-footed and bare-chested over to the bed.

‘I missed you.’

Spock’s eyes were gentle as they met his, warm and loving. He came to sit beside Jim on the bed, one long-fingered hand stroking smoothly down the side of his ribcage, and coming to rest on his hip.

‘I am sorry, t’hy’la,’ he murmured, lifting his hand and pressing a soft kiss to the space between his knuckles. ‘I made sure that both you and the children were asleep before I left, but I did not anticipate you waking.’

‘The bed was cold,’ Jim pouted, shivering less in recollection, and more because of the way Spock continued to lay little suckling kisses on his hand, moving slowly over the backs of his fingers.

_I always endeavour to keep you warm, beloved._

Jim gasped when Spock thumbed over his nipple, then laughed breathlessly.

‘Oh, so you think if you just make me horny, this’ll all go away, huh?’

Spock’s hand froze, and he looked up with an expression so uncertain that Jim reached up for him immediately, pulling him down on top of him.

‘I did not intend-’

Jim cut him off with a kiss, short and sweet.

‘Sweetheart, I was joking,’ he cooed, carding a hand through his hair. ‘But I wasn’t joking about wanting you.’

Spock’s thigh fit snugly between his legs, and he ground slowly against it, his eyelashes fluttering as his soft cock twitched in interest. Slipping a hand into his snug boxers, Spock reached for his cock and began playing with it, tugging his underwear off with his free hand. Jim moaned, desire flooding mutually through the bond as Spock stroked and tugged him into hardness, and he carded his hand through silky hair, pulling gently, just the way Spock liked it.

‘I want you inside me,’ he whispered, and Spock shuddered, reaching down to kiss him so passionately that he felt it in his groin. _Adun, I want you._

He knew all too well that Spock liked him to call him husband, knew that it would send him wild, and he was right. With a growl that vibrated against his lips, Spock tore away from their kiss, mouthing hotly down the column of his neck, trailing down towards his nipple where he latched on and suckled hard. Jim all but howled, cock smearing wetly against his thigh where he rutted against him, but the pleasurable torture didn’t last long enough for him to come. Once both nipples were swollen red, and sensitive enough that Jim shivered at the shifting air passing over his chest, Spock moved on, kissing down over his stomach. Jim panted as he flicked his tongue over his navel, whispering his name like a plea.

_A moment, ashaya._

Jim wriggled impatiently, his hips twitching as Spock’s soft lips trailed over the crease between his thigh and his groin, so close to where he needed him, but not quite close enough. He shuddered when Spock blew a gentle puff of air over the straining head of his cock, the coolness of it on his overheated skin almost too much to bear.

_‘Spock,’_ he whined, a hand tangling in his soft, thick hair, tugging lightly.

Dark, mischievous eyes met his as Spock leant down to slowly drag his tongue over his leaking glans, the glorious friction tearing a moan from Jim’s throat. Spock teased him mercilessly, pinning his hips as he kissed and licked his way up his shaft, mouth slow and infuriatingly gentle on him. Jim squirmed and whined under the pleasurable torture, his cock drooling precome which was duly lapped up, and when Spock finally sealed his lips around the head of his cock, he couldn’t repress a cry.

_Beloved,_ Spock crooned, sucking him deeper. He let go of his hips, instead using his hand to stroke and pull at his sac. _Let go for me, my t’hy’la._

Jim wasn’t sure whether it was the delicious wet heat of Spock’s mouth or the arousal he could feel through the bond that triggered his orgasm, but as Spock suckled noisily at him, pupils blown wide, the pressure that had built within reached its peak. He let out a broken sob as pleasure rushed through him, his hips jerking upwards reflexively as he spilled into Spock’s mouth, rocking shallowly until discomfort overtook the ecstasy of before. Spock swallowed thickly, letting Jim slip from his mouth, and as he did so, a trickle of come seeped from the corner of his mouth.

‘You missed a bit,’ Jim said faintly, reaching up to wipe it away with his thumb. Spock’s eyes were almost predatory, watching him so intently that he felt heat rise in his cheeks, and once he had gathered the liquid onto his thumb, Spock bent to take it into his mouth, sucking it off him. ‘Oh, God.’

Spock let him go with a lewd pop, his dripping cock dragging wetly against Jim’s stomach as he reached down for a kiss, hungry and passionate. Jim arched into him, gentling the kiss until their lips were barely brushing, and he reached for Spock’s hand, pressing two fingers against his. With a soft moan of satisfaction, Spock pulled away from his mouth, stroking their fingers together as he sat back onto his knees. There was a soft flush over his face and at the tips of his ears, and a much darker one at the head of his erection, which was a rather angry green.

_You have a beautiful cock, you know that?_ he murmured, revelling in the slick feel of it as he took it in hand.

_Thank you, adun,_ Spock said raggedly, rocking into his hand. _Though I much prefer yours._

‘Mine isn’t as pretty,’ Jim argued, pressing a finger against his lips when he looked to protest. ‘No, no, shh, honey. I want you. Do you want me?’

Spock shuddered as he gently stroked him, lips parting erotically.

‘Of course, ashayam.’

The hand that was tangling with Spock’s reached up to thread into his hair, the other abandoning his erection in order to pull him back down for another kiss as Jim groped blindly in the bedside table for the lube. He found it only after he’d scraped his finger against something sharp and cracked his knuckle against the top of the drawer, ignoring Spock’s attempts to examine the barely-there injuries, and pressing the bottle firmly into his hand.

‘Sweetie, I’m fine,’ he breathed, cupping his cheek, a smile playing at his lips as Spock nuzzled into his hand.

‘Fine has variable definitions.’

His eyelids fluttered closed as Spock moved out from his grip to suck kisses into his neck, hands skimming reverently over his waist. When they reached his hips, one slid inwards, curling around his half-hard cock. Jim whined softly as he began stroking at it, teasing him as the lid to the lube clicked open.

‘Are you still willing to be penetrated?’ Spock asked, voice rough with arousal.

_‘Yes,’_ Jim panted, inhaling sharply as Spock teased at his hole with the pad of his finger. ‘Yes, Spock, _please.’_

‘As you wish.’

He drew his knees up, allowing Spock to settle between them as he gently pressed inwards, his finger sliding in and out with barely any resistance. Bearing down, he looked up at Spock, only to find him staring at the place where they joined, a deeper flush spreading over his face and chest.

‘Feels good, huh?’ he breathed, stroking over the taut muscles of his back. ‘Your hands are so sensitive, I bet it feels just like it does when you’re really inside me.’

‘ _Jim,’_ Spock gasped, a second finger playing around his rim.

‘Yeah, baby, I want another.’

The second was harder, but Jim’s discomfort passed quickly under Spock’s tender stroking and stretching. When he felt that familiar brush against his prostate, pleasure sparked through him, and he moaned as his hips jerked.

_There!_

‘Yes, beloved,’ Spock murmured, curling his fingers and stroking over it until Jim saw stars.

‘Spock, please, I want you,’ he begged, hands grasping for purchase on his back and finding none.

_One more, t’hy’la._

The third stung, and Spock froze when the pain registered with Jim, obviously reacting to the bond.

‘M’fine,’ Jim insisted, moving cautiously against his hand until the sting subsided.

Spock watched him with anxious eyes, and Jim reached up to press two fingers to his lips, smiling as he kissed them softly.

‘I’m fine,’ he repeated, pulling Spock down for a real kiss as he shifted again. _C’mon, baby._

Spock pulled away only so much that they could breathe, his lips ghosting kisses over Jim’s face as he gently scissored his fingers, pressing and stroking over his prostate until Jim was writhing once more.

_Now, Spock._

As Spock slipped his fingers out, Jim grabbed the lube and added it to the layer of slick that already coated his cock, watching his eyelids dip with a thrill of satisfaction. When he dropped his hand, Spock shifted forwards, and Jim pulled his knees further up, crossing his ankles behind his back.

‘Are you certain, taluhk?’

Jim nodded frantically, and Spock took himself in hand, rubbing himself over Jim’s perineum before gently pressing inside him. There was a moment where the breath caught in both of them, pressure building where they joined, but then Spock pushed in with a ragged groan, and the pressure retreated. Jim tucked his face into the crook of Spock’s neck, the fullness as overwhelming as usual.

_Jim?_

_I’m good,_ Jim soothed, carding through his hair. ‘I’m ready, honey.’

Spock kissed his temple, then his lips when he looked up, withdrawing only an inch or two before pushing back in. Jim could feel his desire begin to mount, and when he began moving in earnest, he found Jim’s prostate rather quickly, the shock of pleasure forcing a cry from his throat. His cock rubbed against Spock’s rigid stomach as he whimpered and writhed beneath him, his climax approaching embarrassingly fast.

_T’nash-veh,_ Spock was growling, hammering against his prostate with a precision that made Jim sob with ecstasy. _T’hy’la t’nash-veh, e’tum-veh._

One hand rose to Jim’s face and Jim choked out a ‘yes’; Spock’s fingers fixed upon the meld points, and then they were joining in an entirely different way, the meeting of their minds bringing a rush of ecstasy all of its own. He could feel what Spock felt; the tightness of his body and the glorious heat of human skin beneath him combined with the drive against his prostate and the wonderful friction against his leaking cock, and it had him wailing. Spock moaned, a vicious slew of Vulcan tearing from his lips as he moved deeper, eyes black with need, and as he bent almost double to take Jim’s nipple into his mouth, Jim reached breaking point. He came with a splintered cry of Spock’s name, spurting thickly over his stomach as he clutched at Spock’s hair, blind with pleasure. He barely noticed Spock’s answering howl of ecstasy, and the sudden rush of heat inside him, but he did notice the way that Spock half-collapsed onto him, trembling arms keeping him from falling directly onto Jim.

‘C’mere, honey,’ Jim said breathlessly, guiding Spock down to lie beside him.

He felt overheated, his heart thundering and chest heaving, but he still wanted Spock there with him, heavy and hot as he was. Spock splayed a hand over his chest, pressing a slow, sucking kiss to the hinge of his jaw.

‘Jim,’ Spock murmured, his voice deep and thick with satisfaction.

Jim shivered at the sound of it, catching hold of his arm with a plaintive whine as he began to move.

_I will be only a moment, t’hy’la._

Jim reluctantly let him go, but only because he knew he’d regret not cleaning up a little in the morning. He lay back with his arm over his eyes, jumping at the first touch of the warm cloth on his belly.

‘I didn’t hear you come over,’ he whispered, moving his arm away so he could watch Spock clean him up.

‘I did not wish to disturb you,’ Spock replied softly, and Jim shuddered as he gently wiped over his softened cock. ‘Spread your legs for me, ashaya.’

Jim flushed as Spock went lower, squirming in discomfort when he felt semen drool out of him. Murmuring a soothing string of Vulcan, Spock dabbed away the last and sat back, abandoning the cloth on the bedside table.

‘Stay with me.’

It wasn’t a demand, voiced quietly enough that Jim wasn’t even sure that Spock would hear it, but he obviously had, judging by the way his face softened. He called the lights down and lay beside Jim, pulling him effortlessly against his chest.

‘There is nowhere I would rather be,’ Spock breathed, brushing his lips against Jim’s forehead as he wrapped his arms around him. ‘I can begin again tomorrow.’

Jim cuddled into his warmth, orgasm having left him pleasantly exhausted.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, smiling tiredly as Spock’s arms tightened, drawing Jim further on top of him.

‘And I you, k’diwa.’

A little selfish though he may have felt, Jim was relieved that Spock wasn’t going to leave. Wiggling his leg between the gap in Spock’s own, he settled against him happily, running his fingers lightly through the thick hair on his belly. As Spock’s breath evened out, whispering softly over the top of his head, Jim moulded his hand over his side, and felt the fluttering, comforting heartbeat there beneath. Slowly drifting off, Jim tried to match his breathing with the rise and fall of his husband’s chest, the steady rhythm sending him off to sleep far faster than any pill ever had. Testing could wait for one night.

As usual, the next afternoon, the Science department was a hive of activity. Jim held Theo tight to his chest as he carried him through to the lab in which Spock was bent over a microscope, brow furrowed in concentration. There were a few ensigns milling around, their reactions ranging from nervous smiles to one particularly enthusiastic Andorian who cooed outright at Theo, attracting Spock’s attention.

_T’hy’la._

He lifted his head, his eyes softening as they flicked over Jim and their little one, and he began delicately removing the microscope slide.

‘Sa-mekh!’ Theo squealed, squirming away from Ensign Ch'ivhallin and bucking against Jim in the attempt to free himself.

‘Wait a minute, sweetie,’ Jim gritted out, containing him with difficulty as Spock hurriedly locked down his samples. ‘Sa-mekh’s coming.’

As soon as Spock was within touching range, Theo lunged at him, his little arms winding tightly round his neck. Jim pulled down the shirt which had ridden up in his enthusiasm, and greeted Spock with a sly Vulcan kiss.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, sotto voce, his fingers stroking wickedly against Spock’s as he pulled his hand back.

‘Jim,’ Spock replied, half-warningly, half-fondly, as the faintest flush passed over his cheeks. He rubbed Theo’s back as he made a grumbling sound of discontent; a sign that he was ready for sleep. ‘Yes, Theodore, hello to you as well. I had not realised quite how late it was.’

‘My stomach did,’ Jim muttered, holding the door open for him as they left.

‘I hungy,’ Theo agreed solemnly, leaning heavily against Spock’s chest.

Jim felt an unpleasant squeeze in his chest as he heard his son admit to his hunger, his anxiety about how closely the word related to _starvation_ very present despite how ridiculous he knew that it was. An echo of panic drifted across the bond, and Spock reached across to gently squeeze his hand.

_Ashayam, he ate lunch four point six three hours ago._

_I know,_ Jim said softly, still unable to shake the feeling.

‘I am hungry as well.’ Spock gently corrected their son, his thumb rubbing over the join of Jim’s wrist before he parted their hands. ‘But we are not _too_ hungry, are we, sa-fu?’

Theo shook his head, a cheeky grin passing over his face as Spock tickled him beneath his chin, and the sight lightened the burden on Jim considerably.

_They are well-fed,_ Spock reminded him softly, allowing him to walk ahead of him into the mess. _They are safe._

_I know. Thanks for making me feel better, love._

There was a rush of warmth through the bond, and Spock’s eyes met his with more emotion than he would ever show in public before there was a delighted shout, and both of them turned their attention to the table.

‘Daddy, Sa-mekh!’ Liora squealed, their titles running together as Amanda lifted her from her chair, and she bolted across the mess.

Jim was ready to catch her, and he threw her up into his arms with an exerted huff, balancing her on his hip. She had what Jim hoped was pasta sauce round her mouth, red-orange smeared down her chin.

‘Hey, sweetpea! You all right?’

‘Yeah! Nana let me have _two_ biscuits this morning, I like biscuits, daddy.’

Jim tutted, and he noticed Spock eyeballing Amanda, who ducked her head in shame. Beside her, Christine tried to hide her smile with her hand, and failed miserably.

‘You will not want your dinner if you eat too many biscuits,’ Spock warned, depositing Theo in his highchair at the end of the table.

‘But I do, sa-mekh!’ she protested, pointing at her half-eaten pasta. ‘I like ’ghetti.’

‘More than biscuits?’ Jim asked, wiping her face off with a napkin.

She spluttered, her answer muffled as she spoke through it.

‘I prolly like biscuits the best out of anything.’

Jim snorted with laughter, and dropped her back into her chair, greeting the others cheerily. Amanda, Christine were as amiable as ever, but Bones, who mumbled his reply, was decidedly off. Jim watched him in concern as the others chattered on, and when Spock returned from the replicators with their meals in hand, he drew his attention to their friend.

_Something’s the matter with Bones._

Spock discreetly turned his eye on him, as did Jim, making sure to stab his fork into his food every so often to avoid suspicion. The scowl on Bones’ face was even more pronounced than usual, his face a picture of misery, and when Jim glanced to the side, he found Amanda watching too, her lips drawn in a worried line.

‘I’ll talk to him,’ Jim mouthed at the both of them, averting his gaze from Bones just as he looked up. ‘So, uh, Christine, what have you been up to today?’

She and Janice had been whispering together, their intimacy clear in the way their hands touched and tangled, and when Jim spoke, she didn’t part from her.

‘Well, apart from helping Leonard patch up yet _another_ accident in engineering – Johansson is a nightmare – I spent a lot of time in the labs with the ensigns. Some of them don’t have as much experience in biomed, so they’re not fantastically confident yet. They’ll get there though.’

‘They are certainly enthusiastic,’ Spock added, catching Theo’s spoon as it slipped from the tray of his highchair. ‘The number of volunteers is increasing, as is the number of off-duty hours that certain crewmembers are working in the laboratories.’

‘Do you think it’s going well?’ Amanda asked, her gaze – at first – on Bones. When he didn’t reply, she turned to Spock, and after an awkward pause, continued. ‘The testing, I mean.’

‘The consensus is for now that we will focus our attention on creating a prophylactic vaccine.’

‘Preventative, rather than therapeutic,’ Christine cut in, then nodded for him to continue.

‘We believe that it will be far simpler to prevent than to cure,’ Spock patiently explained. ‘However, that does not mean that the process is at all simple. There are a number of vaccine types, and at the moment, we are concentrating on two; the inactivated, which involves destroying the virus particles and utilising them in a vaccine, and the toxoid, utilising inactivated toxic compounds. The former has been weaponised against various common viruses, such as influenza, but the second is very effective against particularly virulent strains of infection.’

‘It would be helpful to know the origin of the virus,’ Christine added, stabbing her fork into her salad. ‘But we’ve got to move on without that knowledge, and every new person who starts working on it has new ideas. We’re starting to test on blood and skin samples, watching the division of the cells and how the virus spreads microscopically, and I think we’re starting to get somewhere.’

‘Yay!’ Liora squeaked, and although it was probably more to do with how she’d successfully managed to lob a pea into her empty cup, it broke the serious atmosphere.

Christine snorted, reaching over to tickle her under the arms, and she shrieked with laughter, her whole body wriggling until Jim was forced to put his hand on her back to stop her falling off her chair. Conversation returned, though now it was about more light-hearted things; the progress of the children in Amanda’s classes, how much Johansson wanted to be like Scotty, how the ensigns clustered around Spock in the labs, vying for his attention like kids. Yet all the while, Bones stayed silent, his face grey and drawn, and Jim was more than a little bit concerned.

_Once we’ve got the kids settled in bed, I’m going to him,_ he said firmly, putting his cutlery down.

_I would expect nothing less,_ Spock replied, shooting Bones a discreet look of his own. _You are most likely to ascertain the problem._

As they cleared away the tableware, and each of them lifted a sleepy child into their arms, Jim watched Bones’ shoulders slump when he walked away.

_Oh, I’ll get to the bottom of it. Don’t you worry._

At 1930 that evening, Jim was able to slip out of their quarters, the children both – at least for now – fast asleep. He hadn’t warned Bones that he was coming, just in case he made an excuse not to see him; he’d always been good at retreating when he was upset. Worry had lodged deep in his gut the second he had seen Bones’ face at dinner, and it hadn’t moved since. Bones was his family, far more a brother than his own had ever been, and he loved him fiercely. There was no chance he was going to leave this alone.

When he reached the door to Bones’ quarters, he rang the bell multiple times, but to no avail. Frowning, he instead decided to hack the locking system, and within thirty seconds, he was walking through into the semi-darkness of his room.

‘What the _hell,_ Jim?’ Bones barked, lifting his head from his hands.

He was sat on his bed, and when he started to get up, Jim gestured for him to stay there, calling the lights up as he dropped into the space beside him. When it became bright enough to see his face, Jim’s stomach dropped.

‘Leo,’ he said softly, sliding his thumb across his cheek in order to wipe away the clear tear stains. ‘What’s the matter?’

Bones hiccupped, shaking his head. There was utter despair in his expression, and still the tears spilled, silent and copious.

‘Tell me,’ Jim said urgently, moving his hand round to hold the back of his neck. ‘Leo, please.’

‘’m bein’ stupid. And selfish.’

Jim’s heart squeezed, and when Spock made a tentative enquiry in the back of his mind, he gently rebuffed him.

_I don’t know yet, sweetheart._

‘I’m sure you’re not, Bonesy. C’mon, what’s wrong?’

Bones sniffed, shaking his head as he looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

‘I, uh, I saw Alfie with a girl this mornin’,’ he choked, exhaling in a long, shaky breath. ‘She came out of his room just as I did, and God, she looked at me like a rabbit in the headlights. I… I just-’

He swallowed, and stopped, wiping clumsily at his eyes.

‘Bones, I’m _sure_ she’s just a friend,’ Jim insisted, although he wasn’t entirely sure at all. ‘He likes _you.’_

Bones shook his head, his face and voice dejected.

‘I don’t know. Maybe he just got tired of waitin’.’

‘I know you’re in love with him, Leo,’ Jim said softly, watching him flinch with a throb of pain. ‘And I know how that feels. I can’t even imagine trying to contain that emotion for so long. Why don’t you tell him?’

Bones continued to shake his head, and Jim contained his frustration, remembering how he had broken in the aftermath of Joanna’s death, and knowing how it continued to affect him. In the silence, Bones’ head was bowed, and Jim took the time to cast a quick eye over his quarters. They were remarkably spartan, the frayed string bracelet that Joanna had given him taking pride of place on his desk, too worn now to wear without fear of it snapping. There were few personal touches to the room, and although Jim knew they’d lost pretty much everything in the last two and a half years, it looked as if Bones could pack his life into a single box. It was so utilitarian, and Bones hadn’t been like that before. Alfie would be good for him, if only they could get their act together.

‘I’m going to go and talk to him,’ Jim announced, when the silence had gone on for too long.

With no resistance from Bones, he stood, and made for the fresher.

‘Not that way,’ Bones blurted, his eyes wide and panicked. ‘He’ll know you’ve been talking to me.’

‘He’s probably going to know anyway,’ Jim said slowly. The panic didn’t dissipate, so with a long-suffering sigh, Jim turned towards the door. ‘I’ll see you afterwards.’

He was glad that nobody was in the corridor to question his behaviour as he came out of one room and knocked straight on the door of the other. Alfie, a perfectly reasonable person, didn’t need his locking system hacking into. Instead, he called Jim inside, and immediately offered him a drink as he pointed him towards the chair next to his bed.

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Jim said politely, dropping into it as Alfie sat on his bed.

The polar opposite of Bones’, these quarters were as homely as possible, full of knick-knacks and decoration and light. There were more books than even Jim owned, piled high upon his desk and his bedside table. Alfie regarded him with a mixture of confusion and nerves, his perpetually unruly hair falling into his eyes, and a hand rising to comb it back. Jim had never visited his quarters alone before.

‘Alfie, I’m going to cut to the chase, all right? I'm coming here as Jim, not your Captain. I’ve been to visit Bones this evening, because he looked really down at dinner.’

Alfie’s brow crinkled, grey eyes filling with concern.

‘He did? Why?’

‘Well, that’s what I went to find out,’ Jim told him, watching his anxiety visibly build. ‘He saw something this morning which upset him a little…’

He trailed off, hoping that Alfie would fill him in, but when he continued to stare, obviously confused, Jim carried on.

‘He seems to think that you _might_ have slept with someone last night.’

Alfie immediately began shaking his head, the frown that was already creasing his forehead deepening.

‘No. _No,_ I would _never,’_ he denied hoarsely, visibly distressed. ‘Lara came before her shift to drop off a book I’d loaned to her, nothing else, I swear.’

His words were running together in his desperation, his hands clutching at the duvet, and Jim decided to interrupt him before he got too upset.

‘I believe you, Alfie, you don’t have to sell it to me. I knew you wouldn’t have done, even if you completely have the right to.’

‘I don’t swing that way,’ Alfie blurted, heedless of his attempt at reassurance. ‘And neither does she for that matter.’

‘Alfie, I _believe_ you,’ Jim insisted, leaning forward to clasp his forearm.

He curled his fingers around it, and Alfie’s fidgeting hands stilled beneath his touch. His head was hanging down, and his breathing was shaky, and although he was no longer fidgeting, his utter despair was palpable. Jim was at a loss; his tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth, and he wasn’t sure that anything he could say would make him feel any better. He knew how deeply Alfie felt for Bones, and it was painful to watch him struggle to contain it.

‘It’s him or nobody, he knows that.’  

When he eventually spoke, there were tears in his voice, throaty and broken.

‘He’s it for me, even if that’s not the case for him.’

‘You know it’s not that he doesn’t love you, right?’ Jim asked helplessly, squeezing his arm before letting go.

Alfie nodded miserably, raising his head to look at Jim. His eyes were watery and impossibly sad, but he didn’t cry, blinking away what might have been tears.

‘I just want what you and Spock have,’ he choked, a shiver wracking his body. ‘Just… why can’t he let himself be happy?’

Jim shook his head sadly. He couldn’t even imagine being without his husband, let alone loving him so fiercely and being unable to express it.

‘I don’t know,’ he whispered, cringing at the painful, wounded sound that left Alfie’s mouth in response. ‘I’m sorry, Alfie.’

There was a heavy silence, during which Jim sat frozen, not knowing what else to say. Each time he thought he might begin, he ended up letting the breath he held leave him in a quiet huff, knowing that it wouldn’t be good enough. Eventually, Alfie’s head bowed a little lower, then rose completely. He was dry-eyed when he looked at Jim, though Jim could see the pain etched into his face, undeniably there beneath his composure.

‘I’m fine, Captain… Jim. I’ll be fine.’

Jim wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t argue. As Alfie stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if there were a great weight upon him, he did also.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,’ he said, rather uselessly, knowing that he definitely had.

Alfie shook his head, a small, sad smile quirking his lips.

‘You haven’t done anything wrong, don’t worry. I… I think I’m going to go to sleep if that’s all right.’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Jim stood, feeling horribly guilty about the way he’d confronted him. ‘Alfie, I-’

‘Jim. It’s okay. You’re trying to protect your friend, and I get that. I’m not mad.’

Jim nodded, itching to apologise more, but he knew it wouldn’t help. Alfie obviously wanted to be alone, and he wasn’t going to stop him doing that.

‘I guess I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said softly, pressing the access pad next to the door.

Alfie dipped his head.

‘You will. Night.’

‘Night, Alfie,’ he returned, walking straight through the fresher towards Bones’ room.

Guilty and embarrassed about how he’d confronted Alfie, he wasn’t in the best of moods as he walked in, seeing Bones on the bed with his head in his hands.

‘She’s just a friend, and he loves you,’ he said firmly, meeting conflicted eyes with a hard stare. ‘One day you’ll pull your head out of your ass and realise that you’ve got a shot at being happy.’

‘Thanks, Jim,’ Bones quietly replied, looking so sorry for himself that Jim couldn’t help but soften.

He squeezed Bones’ shoulder, offering him a tight, tired smile.

‘So it’s good news. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?’

‘Yeah. Night, Jim.’

‘Night,’ Jim breathed, leaving his quarters with a heavier heart than he’d had when he entered.

As he walked through the corridors, the whole sad situation inspired in him the irrepressible urge to reach out for Spock, no matter that he’d be seeing him in only a few minutes.

_I love you,_ he whispered through the bond, so grateful for his husband, and for their family. _I love you so much._

_As I love you,_ Spock immediately replied.

Jim could sense his curiosity keenly, but it was quickly reined in, for which he was thankful. He’d get the story soon enough. As for Bones, Jim hoped he would get his act together pretty soon; when he recalled Alfie’s hollow eyes, it imbued him with a sense of dread that he didn’t quite know what to do with.

It was with a sigh of relief that he reached their quarters, and as he opened the door, Spock was there to take him into his arms, a gentle kiss pressed against his crown. Yes, Jim was grateful that he would be able to sleep beside someone he loved tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really only been two weeks since last time? We're pretty close to the end now, but I am planning a little oneshot to post afterwards... you'll have to wait and see about that though :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please comment below if you did! My tumblr is [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to take a look, and I hope you all have a restful weekend :)


	34. With Love Gone For So Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I almost forgot to update this evening. I've been minding my own business for hours with this nagging feeling that I'd forgotten something - thank God for the constant barrage of trek on tumblr, that's all I can say!

Stardate 2261.94. 1328 hours. KL interviewing LHM.

This afternoon, Leonard enters with a distant expression, evidently preoccupied. He glances at the clock between gaps in conversation, his twisting hands a sign of nerves, or impatience, or a combination of the two, and I’m pretty sure I know why. We’re coming to the close of our interviews with the Enterprise crew just as quarantine ends, not just for the new arrivals, but for a particularly important crewmember. While Christine Chapel and S’chn T’gai Spock may have discovered the vaccine to prevent the spread of the Plague, every vaccine must be tested. There was another person who made a significant contribution to its development.

How’s Alfie, Leonard?

_[He blinks at me, all rabbit-in-the-headlights; I thought he wasn’t listening.]_

LHM: Alfie? _[A tiny smile crosses his face, fleeting, but genuine.]_ He’s, uh, he’s good, I think. We haven’t been able to talk much, not since they whisked him away to quarantine.

_[The smile melts away, replaced by a rather more familiar frown.]_

LHM: He’s lucky. I… we all are.

How so, apart from the obvious?

_[He doesn’t meet my eyes as he replies, his expression filling with shame, and his accent thickening.]_

LHM: He could have died, and I… none of us would have been able to touch him. I know what he did was very brave, but it was also very stupid.

_[He looks down, gently tightening the bracelet on his wrist.]_

LHM: And it was my fault.

No, I don’t think-

LHM: _[tiredly]_ I know it was, Kaitlyn. Please don’t argue with me, because you’re not going to change my mind. I made some stupid decisions of my own, and… _God-_

_[He breaks off, his eyes suspiciously wet. Over the past few weeks, I feel like I’ve got to know Leonard quite well, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who he’s pining for.]_

Leonard, don’t you think you deserve a little happiness?

_[He stares at me miserably, silent.]_

In your own words, you’ve had three years of hell. I know there are some things that time will never heal, but from what I’ve seen and heard, I think you’ve got a real chance at something good here.

LHM: Maybe. I don’t know.

Look, I know we all like speaking vaguely, but I’m going to be straight with you: I have heard so much about you two, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he wants to be with you. And though I can’t say for sure, I think you have feelings for him as well.

_[He nods once, sharply.]_

So, what’s stopping you?

LHM: _[softly]_ Before we got here – before what he did – I thought I had lots of reasons. And I thought they were good ones. _[He heaves in a ragged breath, eyes unfocused.]_ Now though, I’m not so sure.

When’s he being released?

LHM: Today. _[His eyes flick to the clock, and he begins to fidget once more.]_ In about four hours.

We’d better get cracking then. I’d like for you to tell me about the breakthrough with the vaccine, if you wouldn’t mind.

LHM: Sure. It didn’t come without a lot of hard work, and in the middle of it all were Christine and Spock.

* * *

As Leonard exhaustedly passed his tricorder over Ensign Ferrera’s stomach, he wilted in relief to see the readings upon it settle. Though a ruptured appendix was fixable enough, on a day like this, with three engineering accidents and a virulent bout of Levodian ’flu, it hadn’t been ideal. Leonard had performed two invasive surgeries today, M’Benga assisting with the first, and had been woken in the middle of the night after a serious crush injury had needed attention. Suffice it to say, he was bone tired, and now that Ferrera was stable, he was ready to drop where he stood.

‘Are you satisfied now?’

M’Benga’s voice behind him pulled him from the stupor he had been in, and when he turned, his smile was wide and warm.

‘Am I ever?’ he countered, the habitual bite absent from his voice.

M’Benga, looking rather more bright-eyed than he suspected himself to be, stepped forward and clapped a hand onto his shoulder.

‘Leonard, go to bed. I’ve got it from here.’

He might have been kind of a mama bear when it came to his patients, but there were only two people in the universe whose medical abilities Leonard trusted, and M’Benga was one of them. Sighing, he nodded, allowing M’Benga to take the tricorder from his hand as he sloped wordlessly towards the exit.

‘And get some real sleep before you come back here!’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Leonard called back, throwing a hand up to wave vaguely back at him. ‘Keep an eye on Crusher if he wakes up, will you? Kid’s a human disaster.’

His feet dragged along the floor as he sloped off towards his quarters, the energy he retained barely enough to keep him moving, let alone his gait steady. At least he might sleep through the night for once. The corridors were devoid of life, and Leonard wasn’t surprised considering that it was well into ship’s night, the skeleton crew that operated on Gamma shift mostly up on the Bridge or in the bowels of the ship. He hoped to Christ that there wouldn’t be any more engineering accidents in this cycle.

When he reached his quarters, he found himself absently glancing over at Alfie’s door, despite knowing that he wouldn’t be up in the middle of the night. Though he and Jim were still thick as thieves, Jim’s marriage and kids consumed much of his life, and Alfie had come to fill the void left behind in an entirely different way. No matter how viciously Leonard tried to stamp down on his feelings, Alfie was often all he could think about, friendship and affection having transformed into an ardour he could barely contain. It had been growing for so long now that Leonard could hardly remember a time when he hadn’t loved him.

And yet.

As Leonard called up the lights, his eyes immediately caught sight of Joanna’s bracelet, and, as usual, his heart squeezed painfully. His little love hadn’t had a chance. He hadn’t protected her when she needed it, hadn’t even known she _needed_ protecting, and he still missed her every single day. He’d never see her smile again, never hear her laugh. He’d never see the person she would grow into, and that would always be a bitter loss. Whenever he allowed himself to dream of a life with Alfie, he was quickly sobered by the memory of Jo-Jo’s plague-ravaged body, the empty shell that had remained of a bright little girl, and he would force himself to stop daydreaming. If his feelings had been unrequited, it would have been agonising for Leonard, but ultimately, Alfie could be happy with someone else. Unfortunately, that obviously wasn’t the case, and with tension continuing to build between them, he didn’t know what to do.

Kicking off his boots and yanking his pants off, Leonard forewent changing in favour of crawling into bed with his uniform shirt still on, exhaustion settling him heavily into the mattress. Alfie was still – perpetually – on his mind, despite how he tried to distract himself. He was so gorgeous, with his soft grey eyes and his messy dark hair that constantly fell from behind his ear, hair that Leonard’s fingers itched to thread through. He was intelligent, and interesting, and so, so compassionate; Joanna would have loved him, and that was what made him so hard to resist. He was a good man, and he deserved better than this. Rolling over restlessly, Leonard pressed his face into a cool part of his pillow, and prayed that sleep would come soon.

He woke with a raw hatred of the universe that could only come at 0700, his eyelids crusted with sleep, and his ear throbbing from the awkward way he’d rammed it into the pillow during the night. Another bright, beautiful day on this floating tin can. Sitting up with all the speed of a sloth, he rubbed his eyes violently, willing the fog of sleep to leave him quickly. The air seemed frigid as he crawled out of bed, and he hissed in disapproval, folding his arms over his chest as he stumbled towards the fresher, and unthinkingly walked in.

He blinked.

There, in all his half-naked glory, was Alfie, a towel knotted loosely around his hips, and his hair slicked back. Leonard couldn’t help but stare, his inhibitions not quite having kicked in, and Alfie stared right back, though his expression was rather more miserable than appreciative.

‘Leo,’ he said softly, and a shiver went up Leonard’s spine.

‘M’sorry, I’ll leave,’ he murmured, turning away.

‘I need to talk to you.’

Leonard froze in place. As difficult and selfish as it was, he had been trying to avoid Alfie for the past few days, confused by the intensity of his feelings, and hurting because of them. Turning slowly back, he made sure to keep his eyes above chest level as he spoke.

‘Can we do this once you’re-’

No.’ Both Alfie’s voice and hands were trembling, the latter curling loosely into fists, as if to catch hold of sleeves that weren’t there. ‘We need to do this now.’

‘I…’ Leonard mumbled, a heady mix of longing and dread curdling in his stomach. ‘Okay, what do you want to say?’

A shiver visibly went through Alfie, and Leonard didn’t think it was because of the cold. He raised his chin, jaw tightening, and spoke with tremulous conviction.

‘You’ve been avoiding me. Why?’

Leonard faltered for a moment, shamefaced beneath his unrelenting, pleading gaze.

‘You know why,’ he said quietly, avoiding his eyes. ‘I… I can’t-’

‘Why not?’ Alfie snapped, his frustration clear in the way his breath caught.

When Leonard didn’t – couldn’t – reply, a sob tore from his lips, tears welling in his eyes, and Leonard’s heart squeezed in response, aching to hold him.

‘Tell me you don’t love me,’ Alfie choked, one hand uncurling and twitching forward as if to touch him. ‘Say it to my face.’

Leonard shook his head miserably, biting down on the inside of his lip as he fought not to spill his feelings and ruin everything.

_‘Say it,’_ Alfie insisted hoarsely, wiping roughly at the tears that dribbled down his cheeks.

‘I _can’t,’_ Leonard replied, his voice cracking. ‘I _won’t.’_

‘Well then, why won’t you-’

Alfie cut himself off with a ragged breath, pressing the back of his hand hard into one overflowing eye. Concerned, and more than a little heartsick, Leonard reached for him, gently taking hold of his wrist and tugging it away from his face. He wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms, particularly when he was like this, all tearstained and shaking. He wanted – _oh,_ how he wanted – but he couldn’t. Alfie deserved to be with someone who could protect him when things inevitably went to shit again, and he obviously wasn’t capable of that. Still, as he slowly drew Alfie’s hand down, their eyes caught, and Leonard’s breath along with it. He was hyper-aware of their proximity, the air between them seeming electrified, but the sudden crackle of the newly-instated intercom in his room made Leonard jump, and the moment was lost.

‘Leonard?’ came Christine’s clipped voice. ‘I need you down here – we’ve got another accident. Internal bleeding and pneumothorax.’

Leonard swore, leaning round the doorway and stabbing his finger into the comm button.

‘I’ll be right down, Christine. Insert a chest tube if you can.’

‘Got it.’

Leaning back into the bathroom, he opened his mouth to speak, but Alfie beat him to it.

‘Go.’

‘Alfie, I-’

_‘Go,_ Leonard.’

It was more of a plea than an order, more desperate than sharp, but Leonard obeyed nonetheless, watching him turn his back with a combined sense of bitter regret and the kind of dread that had no identifiable source, rolling sickeningly in his belly. He didn’t linger; he was a doctor first and foremost, but the longing to do so didn’t subside all morning.

Though it had been a pretty serious trauma, by mid-afternoon, the unfortunate Lieutenant had been completely stabilised, and after scarfing down a late lunch in his office, Leonard had been sent off for a break by a rather insistent M’Benga. Christine had long since been released to work on the vaccine, her assistance having been requested by Spock once the patient was stable, and Leonard was on his way up to the labs to see what was going on. While Christine was a very talented and compassionate nurse, biochem was obviously her passion, and her excitement at the latest developments with the vaccine was contagious. Though he and many others had had their reservations in the beginning, testing seemed to be going from strength to strength, and with the number and dedication of people involved, Leonard was sure that they would be successful soon.

The latest progress with the vaccine had hailed from Christine and Spock combined, their efforts in its synthesis tireless, and the vague summons that Spock had sent down to Medbay was tantalising enough that Leonard found unfamiliar hope rising in him. Striding purposefully down the corridor towards the main hub of the vaccine testing, he met far fewer people than expected, and when he reached the lab, he realised why. A crowd of ensigns and lieutenants surrounded Christine and Spock in the centre of the room, watching raptly as Christine held a microscope slide up to the light, her expression as free from stress and pain as Leonard had seen it since the beginning. There was a definite hush throughout the lab, even the gush of exhalation soft as they all stared raptly at Christine’s face, the only indicator of success.

Eventually, after Leonard had silently pushed his way through to the front of the crowd, Christine placed the slide carefully down, and addressed the group. Though it seemed she was attempting to keep a neutral expression, the corners of her lips were beginning to curve.

‘We’re going to give it a few days,’ she projected, the smile becoming a little more prominent, ‘but things seem positive so far… Don’t get overexcited.’

Chatter had sprung up amongst the group, eager whispers coming from all directions, and Spock gestured for quiet, his tone stern as he spoke –

‘Do not inform your crewmates that a vaccine has been found; we are not yet certain that it is more than a temporary solution. However, I believe that those who have been working here today should have a few hours of respite. Dismissed.’

With a low mutter of returning chit-chat, the crowd slowly dispersed, until only Leonard, Spock, and Christine remained in the room. Before Leonard could even open his mouth to speak, there was a clumsy knock, and Jim entered with Theo on his hip, looking expectantly at Spock.

‘Hey, guys. Good news?’

‘You told him already?’ Leonard asked, incredulous, and Jim grinned, handing Theo over to Spock when he squealed for his sa-mekh.

‘Naturally,’ Spock said loftily, enduring Theo’s full-handed grasp on his ear with minimal reaction, pulling him into a tighter hold. ‘And yes, Captain, there seems to be good news.’

‘Tentatively,’ Christine added, locking down the samples. ‘We _may_ have been successful.’

Jim laughed incredulously, eyes wide with disbelief.

‘Did you hear that, Teddy Bear? Auntie Chrissie and Sa-mekh might have found a vaccine. Have you told Chris yet?’

‘Not yet, but the lab workers know,’ Christine replied, gesturing him over to the microscope, ‘so I assume that despite our warnings, the news will be all over the ship by this evening.’

‘Don’t’cha just love scuttlebutt?’ Leonard muttered, taking a look as bidden.

‘Do you see how the virus isn’t replicating within the host cells? I don’t want to jinx it, but I think we’re onto a winner here.’

Leonard leant over the viewer, blinking hard in case his eyes were deceiving him as he watched the unprecedented inertia in the blood sample, the cells within slowly cleaving in two.

‘There seems to be a gradual degradation of the viral agent,’ Spock added quietly, as Leonard pulled back. ‘Those samples to which the vaccine has been introduced six hours ago have shown a thirty percent decrease in viral matter.’

His expression – as serious as ever – was slightly undermined by the toddler poking clumsily at his mouth, attempting to drag the corners of his lips upwards.

‘We’ll have to tell Chris,’ Jim insisted, his tone one of mounting excitement. ‘I mean, this might not be it, but it’s looking good, right?’

‘It certainly is,’ Christine breezed, locking up the final sample, and moving the microscope hastily away from Theo’s questing hand. ‘I say we let the Admiral know of our progress, then return tomorrow to check on the samples.’

‘Good idea! Spock and I’ll go – Theo too, of course.’

‘Where’s Liora?’ Leonard asked, confused by her absence.

‘My mother has begun teaching her twice a week,’ Spock explained, half to him, and half to Theo, who had perked up at the sound of his sister’s name. His hand fell to rest lightly on the small of Jim’s back as they prepared to leave. ‘The remainder of her learning time is spent with myself and Jim. We will collect her on our way to visit the Admiral.’

‘See you, Bonesy.’

‘Tell Liora Uncle Bones says hi,’ Leonard called after them, tickling Theo under the chin as Spock carried him past, eliciting a squeal of laughter.

‘Will do!’ Jim called back, the lab doors falling shut behind him with a quiet hiss.

Now that they were alone, Christine’s expression morphed from one of indulgent joy to one of sympathy, her eyes boring into his with an intensity that almost felt physical. Leonard shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze, knowing that an interrogation would soon follow. Christine, having spent most of her on-duty (and many off-duty) hours with him, knew him almost as well as Jim, and he was well aware of her perceptive nature. She’d certainly noticed his connection with Alfie, having gently encouraged them to spend more time together since their arrival on the Enterprise, and she always seemed keen to find out how their relationship was progressing.

‘Have you talked to Alfie recently?’

And there it was. Leonard looked away from her, guilt choking him. When he thought about their conversation in the bathroom that morning, a solid lump rose in his throat, remaining very much present despite how hard he tried to swallow it down. If only he hadn’t been called away; who knew what might have been said? Although the note that they had ended on served its purpose in pushing Alfie away, Leonard hated the thought of hurting him, as he obviously had.

‘This morning,’ he said despondently, lowering his gaze to the table as he began to fiddle with the microscope before him. ‘It… it wasn’t good, Chrissie.’

‘Oh, Leonard.’ She frowned in sympathy, her forehead crinkling. ‘What happened?’

Dropping heavily into one of the high chairs, Leonard sighed shakily.

‘We bumped into each other in the fresher, and he confronted me. Properly. He asked me to tell him that I didn’t love him, and I… I couldn’t. Then you called about Johnson, and I had to leave, so we didn’t have time to resolve anything.’

He put his head in his hands, feeling dreadfully cold despite the heat of the lab.

‘God, Chris, he’s ruined me.’

He heard footsteps on the gridded floor as he fell miserably silent, barely reacting to the hand that fell upon his shoulder.

‘He loves you, Len,’ she said quietly, sliding her hand down to rub at his back. ‘And I think it’s about time you let him.’

‘Look what happened to Jo!’ Leonard burst out, his hands falling into his lap as he looked up at her, eyes burning. ‘Look at what happened to Jocelyn. I couldn’t protect either of them, and who’s to say it won’t happen again?’

_‘I_ say so.’

Her no-nonsense tone shocked Leonard out of his misery, and he stared as she folded her arms against her chest.

‘What happened to them was terrible, but so was what happened to all the children in my family, and nothing brings me more joy and comfort than Janice. Look at Jim and Spock – they’ve met in this mess, and they’re so happy together. That’s the way you and Alfie could be, Leonard. And even if the unthinkable happened, and he _did_ end up near a Feral, he would know what to do. Jo was defenceless; Alfie isn’t.’

She paused briefly, sighing softly.

‘I want you to be happy, Len. I’m not saying you can’t be happy without a relationship, but the two of you are obviously in love, so why not give into the feeling? We’d all love to see you together.’

In the wake of her speech, Leonard sat in silence, his heart beating inexplicably fast. Everything and everyone was telling him to give in, and although a little part of him still screamed for caution, it was becoming ridiculously difficult not to throw that caution to the wind and kiss him stupid. He thought about the bracelet upon his desk, the only part of his little girl he had left, and his stomach churned when he remembered how much the thread had frayed, worn from constant use. He hadn’t known how quickly it would begin to fall apart, or how careful he should have been. Now, thinking about the fragility of his sole memento, he realised quite how much he had to lose by not being with Alfie. Here was a living, breathing person who loved him, and in his fear and regret, he had pushed him away. Maybe… maybe Chrissie and Jim were right.

‘I…’ His voice was rough when he finally spoke, and he cleared his throat to soften it. ‘I’m going to go and find him. Talk to him.’

For the first time since their conversation had begun, Christine smiled.

‘Go. I’ll be down in Medbay if you need me. Good luck.’

‘Thanks, Chris,’ Leonard murmured, his heart in his throat as he left the lab, making for the classrooms.

When Alfie wasn’t on patrol, he often helped out with the kids there, contributing to literacy lessons and teaching the little ones how to read. It was something he obviously loved, testament to his past career, and Leonard loved seeing him so happy. He’d mentioned a few days previously that he’d be helping all week, so when Leonard walked into class, he’d expected to see him right there. No such luck. As his gaze flickered over the groups of kids, hoping that he was simply hiding in plain sight, Amanda approached him with a stack of books in her arms.

‘Leonard, it’s lovely to see you down here,’ she smiled, evidently confused by his presence. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ he replied absently, finishing his scan of the room and concluding that he definitely wasn’t there. ‘Have you seen Alfie?’

She shook her head, and Leonard’s heart sank.

‘No, unfortunately. We expected him today, but perhaps he got sidetracked?

_Yeah,_ Leonard thought, _or perhaps I upset him enough that he didn’t even want to be with the kids._

‘Maybe,’ he said quietly, a thin-lipped smile the best he could manage. ‘I’ll try and find him. Thanks anyway.’

He saw confusion pass over her face as he turned to leave, but still managed to do so unhindered, his mind racing through the possibilities of his whereabouts. He’d check his quarters first, then perhaps the mess, where he might have gone to pick up a late lunch or early dinner. Beyond that, Leonard didn’t know.

When he found Alfie’s quarters empty, the feeling of dread that had been festering within since their morning altercation transformed into something far uglier. Something was wrong. Something was _wrong,_ and Leonard didn’t know what, but he _knew._ Alfie was a creature of habit; he didn’t have many boltholes, and he’d always been open with Leonard about where he liked to hide out. All Leonard wanted to do was find him safe, kiss him stupid, and hopefully make love to him - if that’s what he wanted too.

Striding back into his own quarters, Leonard unhooked the radio from his pocket, not knowing why he hadn’t thought of it before. He set it to Alfie’s personal frequency, and sent a few hesitant words through, soft and pleading, but they went unanswered. Throat constricting, he was all prepared to go and ask for help from Jim when his radio crackled, and the strained voice of his best friend rang clear.

‘Bones, come to the brig, please. Now.’

It was no request, and the ever-present dread simmering in Leonard ignited into full-blown panic. He didn’t bother to ask who – he _knew_ – before snatching up the spare Medikit from his bedroom floor and bolting off down the corridor, the quickening flow of blood that rushed from his pounding heart echoing in his ears. A summons to the brig couldn’t be good, considering what was down there, and he didn’t want Alfie, his Alfie, anywhere near it. Too late now, but as Leonard forced his legs faster, his lungs harder, he still found himself praying that everything would be all right.

His breath was ragged by the time he got down to the brig, his chest burning, but as he swung round the corner to find Jim and Spock in front of the glass, none of that mattered anymore. Both turned to look at him as a wounded, primal whine tore from his throat, but he paid them no attention, his desperate gaze firmly upon Alfie within the cage. He was stood with two hypos in hand, one filled with what appeared to be their prototype vaccine, and the other with the gelatinous red-black liquid that passed as Feral blood. His chest was heaving, his eyes red, but defiant, and Leonard’s breath came shuddering to a halt.

‘No,’ he choked, ignoring Jim and Spock as he stumbled forward to press his hands against the glass. ‘No, no, no, no.’

His eyes traced rapidly over Alfie’s body, then back up to his face, fear and hope warring within.

‘I’m fine,’ Alfie rasped, that stubborn lock of hair falling into his eyes. Leonard wanted to brush it back from his face, wanted to burst in there and hold him, but he knew-

‘Quarantine,’ he said softly, gaze flicking to Jim to confirm.

When there was a gentle nod, he sighed shakily, and Jim reached out to squeeze his shoulder, the pity in his eyes unbearable.

‘We’ll leave you two alone for a bit, yeah?’

‘If you should need us, you may contact us using the radio,’ Spock added quietly, walking closer than ever to Jim as they left, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous room.

The shock was slowly transforming into a strange mix of guilt, misery, and anticipation, the desperate need to be with him only increasing as they stood facing one another, separated by the glass. Alfie’s mouth was trembling, his hands along with it; he looked terribly frightened, and Leonard hated that.

‘Alfie,’ he said, his voice cracking miserably. ‘Why?’

Alfie shifted closer, one hand ghosting shakily over the glass between them as soft, sad eyes fixed on his.

‘Somebody needed to,’ he quietly replied, something like guilt flickering briefly over his expression. ‘And-and I thought it was better being someone without any family.’

Leonard’s chest squeezed so painfully that he briefly panicked that he was having a heart attack. This could all have been avoided if he’d only sucked it up and admitted how he felt, and now his sweet Alfie had gone and put himself in danger – all because Leonard had let him think he was unloved. Too many times he had seen the virus take hold, rapid and terrible, and now that it was a possibility for Alfie, his blood felt as icy as Spock’s. In a hopeless, desperate attempt at comfort, he pressed his hand against the glass, parallel to Alfie’s, wanting to touch him so badly.

‘Sweetheart,’ he said hoarsely, watching Alfie’s eyes widen after the endearment with aching regret. ‘I’m so sorry, I-’

He was interrupted by the pneumatic hiss of the doors, and Admiral Pike came striding in, his prosthetic working as well as his true leg. His face was grim, his mouth set in a thin line, and Leonard let his hand drop from the glass as he approached, his body leaning unconsciously closer. Chris came to a stop before the two of them, eyes narrowed.

‘Well, that was monumentally stupid.’

Irritation flared in Leonard, but he knew it was the truth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfie hang his head, and sympathy curled in his gut.

‘Still,’ the Admiral continued, his tone softer now. ‘It was remarkably brave of you, and if the vaccine works, you’ll have sped up the dissemination process considerably.’

He turned to Leonard, gaze serious.

‘Do you have a tricorder?’

Leonard shook his head in despair.

‘I left it, I-’

‘Go,’ Chris interrupted. ‘I’ll stay with him.’

Leonard’s eyes flicked to Alfie, who smiled gently, nodding once.

‘I won’t be long,’ Leonard rasped, turning tail and bolting from the room.

He made for Medbay, knowing that he could get there quicker than his quarters, but when he was only midway there, he turned to corner to find Jim and Spock. Jim grabbed him before he could push past, holding out a tricorder, and when Leonard took it in shaking hands, he grasped his shoulders.

‘He’ll be okay, Bones,’ he said quietly, Spock’s neutral gaze fixed unerringly on Leonard from where he stood to his left.

Leonard shook his head, the adrenaline of the run having worn off, replaced by utter despair.

‘This is my fault,’ he said brokenly, his eyes burning as tears welled within. ‘If I hadn’t pushed him away…’

‘He made that decision, Leo,’ Jim soothed, squeezing gently. ‘It’s not your fault at all.’

‘Yes, but he wouldn’t have-’

He broke off as his voice cracked, shaking his head.

‘I’m going back, okay?’

Spock nodded sharply, and Jim gave him a small, painful smile as his hands dropped.

‘Sure. You know where we are if you need us.’

Leonard nodded, and set off once more without looking back, the tricorder clutched in his sweaty palm like a bar of solid gold. By the time he reached the brig, Christine had arrived, and she took the tricorder from him without a word, the four of them waiting with bated breath as it took Alfie’s vitals through the glass, seeming to taking forever. Eventually, Christine peered at the reader, and her expression lightened a little, a tiny smile stealing over her lips.

‘Not to get to ahead of ourselves, but things are looking good. There’s no sign of the virus spreading… yet.’

The tightness in Leonard’s chest abated a little, but not entirely, fully aware of the implications of that final word. Still, he tried his best to smile at Alfie, who offered his own tiny attempt in return, sweet and tentative.

‘M’Benga and I will hold the fort down in Medbay,’ Christine said gently, touching Leonard’s arm. ‘You can stay here as long as you like.’

The Admiral nodded, and Leonard muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to them both, gratefully taking the tricorder from Christine.

‘I’ll check on you periodically, all right?’

‘Yeah,’ Alfie replied hoarsely. ‘Thanks.’

‘And we’ll get food to you, don’t worry,’ Chris continued, his eyes flicking between them. ‘Any problems, you know where to find me.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Leonard muttered, sending him off with a stiff nod.

Christine soon followed, her hand sliding down his arm as she left, and when it was only the two of them, Alfie’s eyes – wide and scared – locked onto his.

‘I’m not leavin’,’ Leonard promised tremulously, sliding down to sit cross-legged on the floor. ‘I ain’t leavin’ you.’

Alfie followed suit, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the glass. Soon, he would be transferred to a different section of the brig, well away from the docile menace behind him, but for now, Leonard was content to sit with him here.

Hours later, he still remained – had refused to move other than to go to the bathroom – and Alfie stayed much the same. The longer his eyes stayed sharp, the longer his limbs remained steady, Leonard felt a little more of the weight in him lift, but there was still a very real fear that the change was simply delayed, unspoken between the two of them. They did talk, though, about anything but their relationship and what Alfie had done; it seemed that neither of them could bear to speak of permanence when there was still this horrendous uncertainty. Christine had stopped by a few times (as if Leonard hadn’t already been obsessively scanning him every ten minutes), and Jim and Spock too, the kids understandably kept away from an infection risk. Visitors were good, but nothing was more reassuring than time ticking away, and by ship’s night, Leonard was relaxed enough to be able to fall into a light sleep, Alfie already flat out on the other side of the glass. As his heavy eyelids drooped, Alfie’s sweet face was the last thing he saw, and despite all the horrors and worries of the day, he was at least determined that if they both came out of this intact, that lovely face would hopefully be the last thing he saw every night.

He felt like he’d barely been asleep for a few minutes when he was roughly shaken, an excitable murmur in his ears. Jim. Swatting away the nuisance, he resisted wakefulness for a few moments longer, clarity slow to return to him.

‘C’mon, Bonesy,’ Jim whined, sounding ridiculously eager as he poked him in the cheek.

Leonard groaned, but then the discomfort of the floor below him reminded him of where he was, and he sat up so quickly that he felt faint. His head snapped towards Alfie, who was still fast asleep by the look of it, curled up in a ball. Jim’s smile was blinding when he turned back, eyes bright with excitement, and Leonard frowned in confusion.

‘Uhura managed to get a message through to the Federation Council!’

‘What?’ Leonard breathed, hope and cynicism mingling.

‘Yeah, and they responded!’ Jim beamed, gesturing at Alfie. ‘We came in while you were asleep, and Christine found no change in Alfie. The Federation see it as a good enough sign to bring us in.’

Leonard blinked, his head still a little fuzzy from sleep. He must have heard wrong.

‘… What?’

‘Bones, the Federation,’ Jim grinned, and despite himself, Leonard found the corners of his lips lifting too. ‘They’re letting us fly.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did you like my sort-of-kind-of mirror of the STID warp core scene? >:D I planned the 'testing' scene from the very beginning, but cycled through a few characters being the one to sacrifice themselves - but in the end, Alfie just fit the best. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please comment below if you did!
> 
> My tumblr is right [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if any of you want to take a look, and I hope you all have a lovely weekend!


	35. Second Star To The Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm out watching Beyond tomorrow night, so you get this a day early! Surprise :D

Though the last three point nought seven years had contained many unimaginable horrors, it was on this day, aboard Starbase Alpha Six, that Spock felt most nervous. Illogical though it may have been to fear reuniting with his own father, he could not deny the nauseating curl of his stomach, nor the ripples of anxiety strongly suppressed in order not to distress Jim. His mother was obviously extremely excited to be seeing Sarek again, yet despite her valiant attempts to convince him that his father would be welcoming, Spock could not help but recall the thinly-veiled disappointment in his eyes upon the declaration of his intent to join Starfleet. Still, kaiidth, and should Sarek wish to remain indifferent to Spock and his family, Spock would not hesitate to cut him out of his life completely. For too long he had suffered with feelings of inadequacy, and he would not allow the same to infect his children.

As he and Jim bid their final farewells to Kaitlyn Lowrie, he felt a gentle brightening of Jim’s emotions, and sent a questioning look his way as they walked together, their hands brushing lightly together in their closeness.

‘You are happy.’

Jim nodded, and Spock shivered as he stroked his fingers over the length of his own, smiling softly.

‘As much as I like Kaitlyn, getting to the end of that particular story was kind of cathartic… I don’t know.’

He shrugged, leaning into Spock, who eyed him fondly, warmth spreading in his chest.

_I understand, t’hy’la,_ he gently replied, ghosting his knuckles over the back of Jim’s hand. _We are coming to the end of what has been an incredibly difficult period of our lives, and although there have been some obvious positives, I am glad that we have removed ourselves from the situation entirely._

‘Me too,’ Jim said quietly, huffing out a short, sharp breath as they reached the Enterprise’s docking station. Spock caught the longing in his gaze, but the feeling was quickly replaced by sweet affection as he continued, ‘Speaking of positives, let’s go get the kids, yeah?’

‘Yes,’ Spock breathed, eager to see his children again.

Although they had made some progress with separation during the final months on the Enterprise, the threats posed by rogue elements of the Federation Council had caused a setback on both sides, and Spock looked forward to them being returned to him – especially today. It was a little after 1400 hours, and Sarek was due to be released from quarantine at approximately 1445, though Spock had not yet informed the children about the arrival of their sa-mekh-al. He wished first to evaluate his own reception before involving them, in order not to upset them, should his father be unwelcoming. During the three years of their separation, Spock had had ample time to consider all possible responses to his presence, yet now that their reunion was imminent, he found himself uncertain; the probabilities he had calculated seemed to be estimates rather than fact. He only hoped – for the sake of his mother and his children – that Sarek would not exude negativity.

As his anxiety began to build, he felt a warm hand enclose his bicep, and Jim pulled him off the main corridor into a storage room, closing the door behind them. Bemused, Spock did not pull away when Jim leant in to kiss him sweetly, soft lips barely touching his before he withdrew, his hand cupping Spock’s cheek. His eyes were gentle and understanding as he stroked the pad of his thumb over Spock’s cheekbone, bracketing him against the wall with his body.

‘I know we haven’t got long, but I want to know what’s upsetting you so much.’

‘I am not-’ Spock began, but Jim cut him off with a raised eyebrow, his hand sliding down from his cheek to gently take hold of his arm.

‘Honey, you are,’ Jim said tenderly. ‘Please talk to me.’

Spock let out a heavy breath akin to a sigh, dropping his gaze to the floor.

‘You are aware that my father and I have had our difficulties.’

Jim nodded, his affection blooming in the bondspace as he stroked his hands up and down Spock’s arms. There was a hard lump in Spock’s throat that he found impossible to swallow, and his attempts to do so only left him with a dry mouth.

‘I fear…’ he began, attempting to prevent his voice from thickening with the emotion that battered against his shields. ‘I fear rejection for you and the children… and for myself.’

And there it was. The crux of the matter revealed itself on a shuddering exhalation – Spock’s deepest and oldest fear. Acceptance from his father he had craved above all things, particularly when others scorned him, and although his mother had shown him a measure of the affection of which Sarek was capable, Spock had seen it expressed so rarely that he hardly believed the evidence. Jim’s arms encircled him, pulling him into a warm embrace, and he melted into it, drinking in the love he felt as Jim kissed his jaw.

‘T’hy’la, I know he’s been an absolute ass, but your dad loves you,’ Jim murmured, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I _know_ he does, after talking to your mom. And I completely understand why you’re wary, but just think – he’s spent the last three years agonising over whether you’re alive or not. I can’t imagine him being anything but happy to see you.’

Spock shuddered as he kissed the tip of his ear, curling into him.

‘Besides…’ Jim whispered, one hand sliding into the dip of his lower back. ‘If, for some insane reason, he _did_ reject you and the kids, I’d punch his lights out, Vulcan or not.’

Spock felt a thrill of amusement – then a touch of guilt – and hid the twitching of his lips in Jim’s neck, before withdrawing to look at him.

_Thank you, ashayam._

He leant in to kiss him deeply, hands reaching up to cradle his face as their mouths moved passionately together, Jim’s tongue lapping against the seam of his lips until he opened them with a gasp. They kissed slowly, languidly, for a long time, but Spock eventually became conscious of how long they had been there, and he sucked Jim’s lower lip into his mouth before parting from him with a sigh. Jim’s lips were rather pink from their activities, but it couldn’t be helped.

‘We must go,’ he said quietly, surprised by the hoarse quality of his voice. ‘The children will be waiting.’

Jim had looked disappointed, but at the mention of their children, he perked up, and with a squeeze of his hand that made Spock’s breath catch, he held the door open for him to leave the room first.

‘The kids’ll be excited that the interviews are over,’ he grinned, following him out onto a – thankfully – empty corridor.

‘Yes, I believe they will,’ Spock replied absently, wondering whether his mother would be able to tell that he and Jim had been kissing for the last ten minutes.

_She won’t be able to… I don’t think._

Spock raised his eyes to the proverbial heavens as Jim radiated smugness, but it was a fond sort of exasperation which prompted him to do so. As they reached Amanda’s temporary quarters, that smugness transformed into anticipation, and then sunny affection as the door opened to reveal the children playing on the floor, their young faces brightening as they saw their parents.

‘Daddy!’ Liora squealed, struggling out of her cross-legged position and racing towards them. ‘Sa-mekh!’

She tried valiantly to throw her arms around both of them, and Jim swept her up into his arms when she was unsuccessful, tickling her until she giggled uncontrollably. Theodore wasn’t far behind, and when he held his arms up, large blue eyes staring pleadingly up at him, Spock lifted him onto his hip.

‘Sa-mekh, I made a twain,’ he beamed, his smile so like Jim’s that they may as well have been biologically related.

‘You made a train?’ Spock questioned, smoothing his hair back. ‘Would you show me, Theodore?’

He nodded enthusiastically, wriggling until Spock let him down – at which point, he finally got the opportunity to greet his mother, who was sat at her desk in the clinically-empty room, diary open upon it.

‘Thank you for looking after the children, mother.’

‘It’s no trouble at all, darling,’ she replied, her voice a little tremulous. ‘You know that.’

She was evidently nervous, or excited, or a combination of both, her hands twisting in her lap and her leg jiggling.

‘Nonetheless,’ Spock said softly, accepting Theodore’s tiny train in his palm.

It was comprised of a toy block with buttons stuck on the side, and looked rather more like an old Terran car than a train, but Spock would not tell him that.

‘Very good, slor-veh,’ he praised, handing it back over to him with a faint smile. ‘Perhaps you can make another tomorrow, but I must explain something to you both now.’

Jim put his finger to his lips until Liora stopped talking and did the same, allowing her to slide back to her feet. Spock bent to kneel on one knee, putting him at a much closer height to the children as he began to speak.

‘This afternoon, a number of special things are happening. Firstly, Alfie may be released from quarantine-’

That caused an excited squeal from their little boy, which Spock indulged.

‘But secondly, if all goes well, you may be meeting somebody important today. I am not going to tell you who quite yet, though.’

‘Why not?’ Liora pouted, and Jim gently tugged on one of her pigtails, gaining her attention.

‘It’s a secret, baby girl – at least for now.’

Theodore put his finger up to his lips, much as Liora had before, and made a ‘Sssss’ sound, which she frowned at.

‘I _know,_ Theo.’

‘Hey,’ Jim interjected, ‘be nice, sweet pea. Anyway, we’re going to go to wait somewhere now, and you two can stay with me while Daddy and Nana go and do something. Is that okay?’

They looked as if they were mulling it over – which Jim seemed to find hilarious – before Liora spoke.

‘Can I bring Beau?’

‘Of course,’ Spock told her, and she nodded appraisingly.

‘’kay then.’

‘I’m glad we have your approval, sweetheart,’ Amanda said dryly, taking to her feet. ‘Are we ready?’

It was 1434. Spock nodded.

‘Yup,’ Jim beamed, allowing the children to gather their belongings as Spock’s mother led them out of the door, her pace rather quicker than usual.

Spock’s anxiety returned as they walked through the corridors, Liora pressing almost flush to his leg as he guided her with a hand on her back, but he tried his best not to show it in front of the children. Jim, however, was evidently concerned, and when his fretting reached boiling point, he reached over to curl a hand around Spock's waist, squeezing gently.

_Remember what I said, honey. He’s going to be so happy to see you._

Spock didn’t – couldn’t – reply, his attention fixed on the titanium doors of the private waiting room before them, within which was contained an anteroom that fed through to quarantine. It was in the anteroom that his father would be in approximately five minutes, and as Amanda slammed her hand down on the outer door release, the children trailing in after her, the hand on his waist tightened.

_It’s going to be okay, Spock,_ Jim murmured, kissing his temple as the doors closed behind them.

Spock curled into him for comfort; the children had seen them close many times, and he trusted in the discretion of his mother, who sat upright in one of the cheap metal chairs, her eyes trained unceasingly on the status bar above the anteroom, waiting for it to glow green. The children set straight to playing as Jim held him close, carding fingers through his hair, soothing his turbulent mind.

‘When will your brother be released, Jim?’ his mother asked, eyes still fixed upon the status bar.

‘In a few hours’ time,’ Jim replied, the quiet murmur of his voice reverberating against Spock’s cheek, which rested in the crook of his neck. ‘Supposedly, anyway.’

‘Are you excited to see him?’

Spock felt him nod, a flicker of nervous anticipation making its way across the bond.

‘Yeah, I suppose I am. Haven’t seen him in years, even before all this, but he reached out to me over the comms network when I was in the Academy, and we were starting to build something again-’

He broke off to call Theodore over, wiping his nose before sending him off to play again.

‘We’ll see how it goes.’

There was a long, low beeping sound, drawing Spock’s eyes up to the status bar; glowing green, it now read ‘occupied’.

Spock’s mother let out a noise that was almost definitely a sob, and with a joyful glance at Spock, dashed through the anteroom door. Jim had let go of Spock as soon as the beep had sounded, and although he had got to his feet, he hadn’t moved yet. The children had gone quiet, obviously sensing something momentous, and Jim’s hand had come to rest on his back.

‘Go on, sweetheart,’ he encouraged softly, eyes warm. ‘We’ll be here when you get back.’

‘Sa-mekh?’

Theodore’s young voice wobbled, his expression uncertain, and Spock turned to comfort him.

‘I am only going into the next room, sweet ones,’ he explained, putting his arms around both of the children as they ran towards him. ‘I will not be long, and I will be back.’

‘’kay,’ Liora whispered, taking her brother’s hand in order to pull him back as Spock turned.

‘Come here, babies,’ he heard Jim say as he walked up to the door, hand shaking above the release. _Go, adun. We’re right here._

With Jim’s courage of conviction filling him, he pushed his hand down upon the door release, stepping inside. Within the white, stark room, his parents were embracing, his mother in floods of tears as she clutched at her husband.

‘Spock?’ he heard his father whisper, but it wasn’t an address. Rather, it was a question, which his mother answered with a vigorous nod, her sobbing beginning to die down.

‘He’s here, he’s outside.’

Spock was trembling as he stood by the door, waiting for his father – whose face was buried in his mother’s neck – to notice his presence. His heart pounded so fiercely that he wondered whether Sarek would hear it, his stomach squirming with nausea, and when he stepped forward, his father’s head snapped up. Sarek had aged since Spock had last seen him, and not proportionally to the time they had been parted. He looked worn and weary, his skin dull and his hair threaded with rather more strands of grey than it had been three years ago, but his eyes – his _eyes_ were alive with emotion. They stared at one another for a long moment, Spock floored by the depth of feeling he could see in Sarek’s expression, before Sarek lifted an unsteady hand to him.

‘Come here, Spock.’

Spock did as he was bid, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste, and when he reached his father, Sarek held his arms out to receive him. He went to him gladly, feeling the unfamiliar embrace of his father with a shudder of emotion, a fractured, tremulous sob tearing its way up his throat. Fierce parental love flooded into him, and the intensity of it tore the breath from his lungs. Eyes burning, he was horrified to find himself in tears, streaming thickly down his cheeks into the rough material of Sarek’s robe.

‘Shhh, sa-fu.’

The soft acknowledgement made him cry all the harder, and his father held him tightly throughout, carding one hand through his hair as the other rubbed slowly at his back. It was an expression of acceptance that he had always craved, despite having tried his utmost to repress that craving, and although he had been without him for three years, it was only now that he realised quite how much he had missed him.

‘I could not quite believe that you were alive,’ Sarek murmured, drawing back in order to look at him. ‘Despite the evidence to the contrary from your mother and the quarantine staff. I allowed our relationship to deteriorate to the point that I could not determine your status through our bond, which was unacceptable.’

Spock wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, blinking away the residual moisture in his eyes.

‘Sa-mekh,’ he replied softly – and how odd it was to use that word, rather than be addressed by it – ‘You could not have known what was to come.’

‘Perhaps not, but that does not compensate for my own short-sightedness in your treatment. I thought, wrongly, that encouraging you to suppress your human side would result in better treatment from your peers. Instead, I only exacerbated your ill treatment by leading you to believe that I held no affection for you.’

Sorrowful eyes met his; for once, they seemed as human as his own.

‘I am sorry, Spock. I made many mistakes.’

Spock was shaken. He felt Jim’s worry and building anger in the back of his mind, and soothed him as best he could, despite his turmoil. To hold the past against his father was illogical, but his human half would not let him forget it. As he looked to his mother, with her red-rimmed eyes and her watery smile, then back to Sarek, he felt a strong urge to concentrate on their future instead. Sarek still had a grip on his shoulders as he hesitated, and Spock could feel his repressed guilt and fear beginning to creep in; he had been unaware that he could inspire such emotion in his father.

‘That is true,’ he conceded, registering Sarek’s tiny flinch. ‘Yet while those mistakes had enduring consequences, I do not wish to allow them to rule my future as well as they did my past. If there is one thing that I have learnt in the last three years, it is that life is precious, and time should not be wasted on allowing resentment to consume you.’

While Sarek did not smile, his expression lightened considerably, and the grip upon his shoulders tightened.

‘Thank you, my son. Would you perhaps… allow the reinstatement of our bond?’

There was such hope in his words, and in his face, that Spock could not refuse him. Wordlessly, he bowed his head, and with a curve of lips that was almost a smile, Sarek lifted his hand to Spock’s meld points.

‘My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…’

Having only melded with Jim in the last three years, this particular meeting of minds was somewhat unfamiliar, though somehow comforting as well, bringing Spock back to the hazy days of his extreme youth, when he had been too young yet to understand how different he was to the others. His father gently sought out the tatters of their bond, drawing them back together like needle and thread did fabric, and a shockwave rolled over he and Jim both as their familial bond roared back to life. It was an unprecedented comfort, to feel Sarek’s presence in the back of his mind once more, and when Spock opened his eyes, it was with a sort of contentment he had not felt in many years. Sarek’s own eyes, however, were widened in shock as he drew his hand away, and Spock knew immediately what he had discovered.

‘Your mind is bonded to another,’ he said, his voice hushed almost to a whisper.

Spock felt a swell of pride and joy at his words, and as Jim’s curiosity itched at him, he allowed his face to soften.

‘Yes,’ he replied, his lips twitching upwards. ‘My husband.’

Sarek blinked, falling silent for long enough that there was time for Spock’s doubts to creep back. His gaze twitched nervously to his mother’s, whose smile remained firmly on her face, and by the time he looked back, Sarek had begun to speak.

‘Tell me about him.’

Unable to read his neutral expression, Spock recalled Jim’s supportive words from earlier in the day, and began without fear –

‘His name is Jim. James, rather, but Jim is his preference. He is human – unapologetically so – and was a Starfleet cadet on the Command track before the outbreak of the virus. I first encountered him in need of help in Des Moines, and in a very short space of time, I discovered that he was my t’hy’la.’

Sarek was visibly startled, his eyebrows migrating towards his hairline, but he did not speak.

‘He has saved our lives too many times to count,’ Spock continued softly, affection seeping easily into his voice. ‘He is our Captain, and he has the respect of the entirety of his crew.’

He paused for a moment, fighting against the long-entrenched instinct to suppress his emotions.

‘I love him dearly… and our children also.’

If Spock had thought that his father seemed startled before, it was nothing compared to the expression he wore now. His mouth gaped open for a long moment, before he shut it with a click, speaking almost eagerly:

‘Children?’

Spock nodded, suppressing another smile.

‘Liora is four, and Theodore is two, although both are coming up to their approximate birthdays. We discovered them when Theodore was newly-born, and their mother had been bitten. Jim and I took them in, and they have been with us ever since.’

‘I believe congratulations is in order,’ Sarek said faintly, looking appropriately shell-shocked. ‘May I meet Jim and the children?’

‘Of course.’

_I am coming, Jim. My father is more receptive than I could have hoped._

Spock turned on his heel, striding back towards the door he had entered through, and when he stepped back into the waiting room, he saw Jim and the children clustered around Leonard. Leonard’s expression looked rather brighter than it had since Alfie’s impromptu vaccine trial, and he suspected that it was due to Alfie’s imminent release from quarantine.

‘T’hy’la,’ Spock quietly called, touching his back to gain his attention. ‘My father would like to meet you and the little ones. Is Ensign Lewinsky being released today, Leonard?’

‘He is,’ Leonard grinned, holding Theodore out to Spock as Jim lifted Liora into his arms with a grunt of exertion. ‘It’s not long off now.’

‘I hope you’re going to be honest with him,’ Jim said softly, his tone gentling his words. ‘You both deserve to be happy.’

Leonard nodded, a little shamefaced.

‘I-I know. I’m not going to waste this chance, Jimmy, don’t you worry. I just hope that he still feels the same way.’

‘He does,’ Spock said simply, having witnessed the abject longing still present even at the point of the Ensign’s quarantine.

Leonard flushed lightly, a remarkably giddy smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to be struggling to repress it.

‘I’ll see you guys later, anyway,’ he muttered, turning away. ‘Hope everything’s going well with your dad, Spock.’

He was out of the door before Spock could reply. Spock watched him leave with eyebrows raised, then turned his attention back to Jim and the children.

‘Liora, Theodore, there is somebody I would like you to meet.’

Neither responded verbally; both instead blinked up at him, their nervousness palpable in the aftermath of their most recent trauma. Pushing down his venomous anger at the perpetrators, he made his voice as soothing as possible, pulling Theodore closer against him.

‘My father has passed through quarantine, and is very eager to meet you and Daddy.’

‘Your father?’ Liora repeated, her little face scrunched up in something resembling confusion.

‘Sa-mekh has a sa-mekh too, sweet pea,’ Jim told her, tucking a loop of unruly hair behind her ear. ‘He’s married to nana, but they haven’t been able to see each other for a long time.’

She nodded, though her expression still a little fearful for Spock’s liking. Theodore, too, remained silent, blue eyes as wide as his father’s as he cuddled into him.

_Are you ready, beloved?_

Jim smiled, dipping his head.

_Let’s go. Your dad had better be nice to the kids. Me, I’m not so bothered about._

_I am, however,_ Spock murmured, stepping through into the anteroom with Jim right behind.

His parents were standing closely together, their fingers touching, but as the door opened, they parted slightly, and Amanda beamed at the sight of the children. Sarek seemed transfixed, his eyes flickering between them, but as Jim approached, he adjusted his gaze appropriately.

_‘Jim,_ I believe,’ Sarek began, his expression as neutral as ever.

‘Yes, sir,’ Jim said respectfully, adjusting Liora in his arms.

‘As you are the spouse of my son, my given name will do,’ Sarek replied, his brow softening. ‘Spock has told me that you were the deciding factor in their survival.’

Jim shot an incredulous look over at Spock, who stared resolutely back, unwilling to take back his statement.

_I would have died if it weren’t for you._

_And_ I _would have if it weren’t for_ you. _You saved me, Jim, in more than one way._

‘Oh, I’m not sure about that, sir… Sarek,’ Jim demurred, his free hand brushing against the back of Spock’s own.

‘Captain,’ Sarek said sharply, and Jim started, nerves creeping back in. Before Spock could object to his tone, Sarek’s voice and face softened as one. ‘Jim. For my wife and child, I thank thee.’

Jim shook his head, and when he turned to Spock, the love in his eyes was as visible to him as it was through the bond.

‘You don’t need to thank me. I love them both dearly, and the kids, of course.’

‘Yes,’ Sarek said, his eyes once more coming to rest on each of the children.

‘Theodore,’ Spock began, lifting his son higher on his hip. ‘Liora, this is your sa-mekh-al. Your grandfather.’

After a long moment of silence, Sarek reached out to Theodore, who whimpered piteously and cringed away, sniffling into Spock’s shirt. Spock rocked him gently, pressing his lips against his forehead as he did so. He could see Sarek’s confusion – and a flicker of hurt – but the needs of his child came before those of his father. Fortunately, his mother was able to explain.

‘Sarek, there’ve been a few threats against the children recently,’ she said quietly, her eyes passing worriedly over both of them.

There was a glint in Sarek’s eyes of the sort that Spock had rarely seen, dangerous and predatory.

‘Threats?’ he echoed blankly, turning to his wife.

‘A few members of the Council attempted to blackmail the boys, threatening to take the children away. But that’s never going to happen, is it, my darlings?’

She reached out to Liora, stroking over her cheek, and their daughter uncoiled a little from her father’s chest.

‘He’s not going to hurt you, baby,’ Jim soothed, evidently encouraged by her reaction. ‘Either of you.’

Spock watched her uncoil a little more, then a little more, until with an uncertain glance at him, she reached nervously out to her grandfather. Sarek’s eyes were wide with some unnameable emotion, and as Spock stared at him, daring him to reject his child, he reached back, taking Liora from Jim into his own arms. He held her a little stiffly at first, their eyes firmly fixed on one another, but then she threw her arms around his neck.

‘You have pointy ears like Sa-mekh! But they’re pointier than Sa-mekh’s, and also your hair is more grey-er, but your nose is like Sa-mekh’s and Theo likes Sa-mekh’s nose a lot.’

Spock felt a rush of amusement, and shared a fond glance with Jim, who was grinning quite openly.

‘Is that so?’ Sarek said good-humouredly, managing not to flinch even as she poked at him.

‘Yep,’ she announced, her feet swinging. ‘When he was real little he liked to squidge it, so you’d better watch out. Wanna get down now.’

She wriggled until Sarek set her gently on the floor, and promptly attached herself to Jim’s leg, pressing her head against his hip. Jim ran a hand over her hair, gaining Theodore’s attention with a quiet ‘Hey’.

‘Want to have a cuddle with grandad, Teddy Bear?’

Spock adjusted him on his hip so he could see his expression; it was still uncertain, but now that his sister had led the way, Spock could see that Theodore was considering it.

‘Go ahead, slor-veh,’ he murmured, pressing his lips gently against his forehead. ‘I promise that you are safe.’

Tentatively, Theodore disengaged his hand from Spock’s shirt, and when Sarek reached out, Spock handed him carefully over. A small, panicked noise left their son’s mouth, but when Jim gently shushed him, he settled. Spock held his breath as Theodore stared at his grandfather, concerned as to his potential reaction. A little hand rose.

‘Theodore,’ Spock began, a gentle admonishment.

He did not reach for his grandfather’s nose as expected, instead latching onto his ear, the other hand wavering until it came to fist in Sarek’s robes.

‘It is well,’ Sarek said patiently, before either parent could intervene. ‘He is not hurting me, are you, Theodore?’

Indeed, his grip seemed rather more gentle than the one he had previously had on Spock’s nose. As Sarek spoke, he smiled bashfully, looking up at him from under lowered eyelashes as he cuddled into him.

‘Looks like you’ve got a fan,’ Jim grinned.

Spock’s heart swelled to see his little family so accepted by the man whose acceptance he had long craved.

‘You have been missed, Father,’ he said quietly, not missing the flash of surprise in Sarek’s expression.

‘And you, my son,’ Sarek replied, cradling Theodore closer to him. ‘Though I am rather pleased that, in my absence, you have formed a family.'

‘Finding these two was nothing short of a miracle,’ Amanda agreed, leaning almost entirely against Spock’s father.

It was obvious that she was blindingly happy, a smile tugging almost constantly at her lips, and – not for the first time – Spock imagined how he would feel if Jim were torn away from him for three years. The very thought made him shudder. Jim looked at him in concern as icy horror shot through him, but it quickly melted away, and he slid his fingers gently around Jim’s wrist to calm him.

_I am well, beloved. It was merely an imagining._

_I’m here,_ Jim soothed, twisting his hand in order to draw Spock’s into his. _I’ll always be here._

Amanda smiled knowingly at them, and although once Spock might have pulled his hand away in front of his father, he did not now. Sarek simply raised an eyebrow, but it did not seem disapproving.

‘Come,’ he began, letting Theodore down as he gestured towards the table in the corner. ‘I should like to know all about the events of your entrapment on Terra… but first, I believe you mentioned a threat against the children?’

Spock nodded stiffly, quashing the flicker of fury that threatened to take over.

‘Well then,’ Sarek continued, that odd glint in his eye once more. ‘You must inform me of the incident in its entirety. I am certain that T’Pau will be interested to hear of those whom have posed a danger to the small ones.’

Satisfaction coiled in Spock’s gut at the thought of further retribution against the imbeciles who had attempted to hurt his children. He allowed the corners of his lips to quirk upwards as he spoke, watching Liora and Theodore play with a rush of affection.

‘Absolutely.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, how's everybody doing? :D Only one more chapter to go now, guys, and I'll have come to the end of another ridiculously long fic. We're into real time now with the boys, and it feels good to start wrapping up a few loose ends! I really hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please comment below if you did! My tumblr is [here](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/) if you want to take a look. Have a nice Friday/weekend, guys :)


	36. And Straight On 'Til Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “And when wind and winter harden  
> All the loveless land,  
> It will whisper of the garden,  
> You will understand.”  
> \- Oscar Wilde

Jim, Spock and the kids had spent hours in the company of Sarek and Amanda, talking about Terra, and Vulcan, and how their family had come together in the wreckage of a planet. It was testament to how much the kids loved Amanda – and how much Sarek had grown on them in such a short period of time – that they jumped at the chance when Amanda offered to take them for an hour or so. Jim, while loath to leave his children, was happy that they trusted Sarek enough to be in his company. Plus, it gave him chance to go and give Bones a pep talk. His and Alfie’s relationship had been over two and a half years in the making, and if it had been agonising to watch them dance around one another before, that would be nothing compared to what it would be like if Bones rejected him again. Jim had seen how terribly unhappy they’d both become in the last few months, and he wasn’t about to let it continue.

Once the kids had been dropped off – with an extra cuddle or two from both of them – Jim led Spock towards the private room in which he expected Bones to be waiting. He was holding Spock’s hand again, despite the impropriety, because he knew his husband needed the contact, drained after such an emotional reunion. Spock was quiet, both verbally, and through the bond, but there was contentment in his silence. As they walked, Jim couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of his eye, overwhelmed by how much he loved him. His chest ached with it as his eyes passed over that stoic, sharp-featured face, that stiff, upright body, and was awed by how much his proud husband softened for him and their children.

_You – and they – are my everything._

Even through their connection, Spock’s words were as tender as those he spoke into Jim’s ear in their bed, and Jim shivered to hear them. He squeezed Spock’s hand gently, the resulting hitch in his breath making liquid desire pool in his belly.

_And you’re mine,_ he returned lowly, knowing the duality of his words as he cradled Spock’s face in the dim, quiet corridor and kissing him sweetly.

He didn’t care who saw, and as his husband sighed shakily into his mouth, he suspected Spock didn’t either. Pulling back with a soft suck of his lower lip, Jim rested his forehead against Spock’s own, stroking their fingers together.

‘I love you,’ he said hoarsely, closing his eyes against the sheer heat he found in Spock’s. _‘God,_ t’hy’la, I love you so much.’

Spock’s nose skimmed over his cheek, before cool lips pressed gently against the hinge of his jaw.

‘Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, ashayam.’

Jim’s giddy smile was bright and unexpected, a thrill of joy passing through him at the thought of having this man by his side forever. He wanted that for Bones as well.

‘Perhaps we should enter the room, taluhk,’ Spock murmured, obviously catching the thought. ‘We will not have long to speak to Leonard before his reunion with Alfie.’

Reluctantly, Jim pulled away, his hand slipping from Spock’s with a final caress against his fingers.

‘I just hope to God he won’t be as stubborn as he was.’

‘I am certain he will not,’ Spock reassured him, his hand hovering over the door release until it flashed green with a quiet bleep. ‘Though I do not doubt your persuasive skills.’

Jim grinned, but as the doors opened, and he found Bones in tears, the smile slipped slowly from his face. His best friend sat cross-legged on the floor like a child with a padd in hand, the screen of which he was tracing with a trembling finger, crying quietly. He did not look up.

‘What’s the matter, Leo?’ Jim asked, urgency underlying the softness in his tone as he crouched before him. ‘Has something happened to Alfie?’

Bones shook his head, blinking to dislodge a tear from his eyelashes, and Jim’s heart clenched. He could feel Spock’s supportive presence behind him, and was grateful for it, his hand coming to rest on Bones’ shoulder. He didn’t get a chance to continue his questioning before Bones looked up at him with wet eyes, a tremulous smile curving his lips. Taken aback, Jim’s brow creased in confusion, but then Bones turned the padd in his hands, and Jim couldn’t help the shaky gasp that left his lips when he was confronted by pictures of Joanna, her little face lit up with joy as she smiled for the camera. As his eyes passed over each picture, grief welled in him anew; he realised that he had started to forget the details of her face, and seeing them now sent him reeling back to that bloodied apartment, the horrific necessity of his actions as haunting as ever. He felt his own eyes well up, and although he was keenly aware of Spock’s desire to comfort him, he wasn’t touched – Spock knew that the moment was theirs.

‘They- they managed to recover these from the data banks of my computer,’ Bones choked, his voice husky with tears. ‘I haven’t seen her face in so long, Jim.’

‘I know,’ Jim said hoarsely, leaning into him for support as much as comfort. ‘I know, and I’m glad you’ve got something more of her. You know none of us will ever forget her, don’t you?’

Bones sobbed, nodding with his face tilted down. He was crying so hard that he couldn’t speak, and Jim shifted forwards on his knees to hug him tightly, rocking slowly like he did with the children. Nobody spoke for a long while, the only sound in the room Bones’ shuddering breath, but then he pulled back with a quick glance at the chrono, wiping his eyes.

‘Alfie’ll be here soon.’

Spock’s hand settled lightly on the back of Jim’s neck, and he leant back into it as Bones gathered himself on the floor.

‘Would you like us to remain with you?’ Spock asked him gently, helping Jim to his feet as Bones stood as well.

Shaking his head, Bones clasped the padd to his chest and smiled wanly.

‘Thanks, but no. I’m… I’m glad for the holos, and I’ll be even gladder when I can sort things out with Alfie.’

‘Are you going to tell him how you feel?’ Jim asked bluntly, the time for subtlety far over. ‘I know you love him, Bonesy, and we’re safe now, so there’s no reason not to.’

‘I know,’ Bones sighed, wiping roughly at reddened eyes. ‘I am. He deserves that, at least.’

‘As do you,’ Spock added, and Bones’ lips quirked ever so slightly, his eyes trained on the light above the door.

Jim didn’t see it flash green, but he heard Bones’ shaky exhalation, and the both of them were ignored but for a nervous smile as he pushed past towards the anteroom. He vanished into it without another word, carelessly leaving the adjoining door open behind him. As soon as he was out of sight, Spock made as if to leave, but Jim stopped him with a loose hand around his wrist, smiling deviously.

_T’hy’la,_ Spock warned, his eyebrow quirking.

_Two minutes,_ Jim wheedled, hugging his arm. _I just wanna see if he’s actually doing what he said he would._

Spock let out a nearly inaudible sigh, acquiescing with a disapproving nod, and Jim kissed him quickly, beaming as he crept up to the open doorway. Inside, he could see Bones and Alfie in a tender embrace, Bones’ arms wrapped tightly around him, as if letting go would mean losing him forever. Bones’ hand was tangled in Alfie’s long dark hair, his lips brushing against his temple, and though Jim stifled any verbal reaction to seeing them together, he couldn’t stifle a grin. Spock came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and Jim leant into him as Alfie and Bones parted slightly, Alfie’s arms sliding down from around Bones’ neck. Hesitantly, they slid down to rest on his chest as Bones held him tighter, and _God,_ the look on Bones’ face was nothing short of rapture. There was still colour high in his cheeks from his crying jag, but it was slowly being eclipsed by a soft, growing blush, warm eyes fixed on the man in his arms.

‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you waitin’ so long, darlin’,’ he murmured, barely loud enough for Jim to hear. ‘I love you, Alfie.’

Alfie’s choked sob was much clearer, and when Bones leant down to kiss him, he reciprocated enthusiastically, moaning into Bones’ mouth. It was cute, but disgusting.

_It’s a little weird just watching them, isn’t it?_

He turned his head in time to see Spock quirk an eyebrow.

_Extremely._

Mind made up, Jim called out, a smug grin on his face –

‘Congratulations!’

They broke apart with a stuttered gasp from one or both, Alfie’s face burrowing into the crook of Bones’ neck as a hand came up to cradle his head. Bones didn’t miss a beat.

‘Jim, get the fuck out of here right now,’ he growled, twisting to shield Alfie from them.

Cackling, Jim obeyed, grabbing Spock’s hand and turning to leave as something light smacked weakly against his back.

‘I’m gonna throw you a party!’ he laughed, tugging Spock along with him like a child.

‘Like _hell_ you are!'

Jim’s breathless laugh was half-amusement, half-joy, and when he looked at Spock, he found him watching with such fondness that he felt a hot flush creep over his face.

_You seem to be flustered, ashayam,_ Spock murmured, his satisfaction clear as he gently separated their hands, nodding at the Starbase personnel walking the other way.

_Am not,_ Jim mumbled, ducking his head in order to hide the colour rising in his cheeks. _Anyway, I’m glad Bones and Alfie have sorted things out. I’m so happy for them._

Spock nodded, his eyes showing quite clearly the contentment his face would not as they entered one of the turbolifts.

_As am I._

The doors closed behind them, and Jim found himself, as he so often did, staring at his husband. The intensity of the feelings that passed between the two of them may not have been entirely visible in Spock’s expression, but his eyes showed such depth of emotion that Jim - not for the first time - wondered how nobody else could see it. How on earth could people say that Vulcans don’t feel when _this_ was what he experienced on a daily basis? His hand began inching toward Spock’s again, but it was barely a few seconds before they reached their destination, so he contented himself with a gentle brush against his back to guide him out onto the corridor. He heard a quiet hitch of breath that set his blood on fire; he supposed it didn’t help that their hectic schedules having prevented them from having much time to themselves lately.

‘Later,’ Spock said quietly, his voice deepened with desire in a way that made Jim’s knees feel weak.

_Can’t wait, sweetheart._

He led them back towards Amanda’s – and now Sarek’s, he supposed – temporary quarters, having deliberately not allowed himself to think about what was to come once the children had been collected. All day, he had watched time tick away with a sense of foreboding, and although he knew his nervousness was probably unwarranted, he couldn’t help but worry about seeing Sam again after so long. They had barely begun to rebuild their relationship when the virus had taken hold, Frank and Tarsus having torn them apart so many years ago, and Jim had no idea how either of them were going to react to meeting again. Still, it was a good sign that Sammy had come to see him at all, and he’d missed his brother, not just in these past three years.

The children rushed towards him and Spock upon their arrival, and when Theo raised grasping hands to be carried, Jim gladly obliged. He pressed his face into his son’s soft hair and breathed in, taking comfort in his familiar sweet smell.

‘Thank you for taking care of the children,’ Spock told his parents, and Jim looked up to find Sarek shaking his head.

‘Thanks is illogical,’ he said, though Jim didn’t get the impression that he disapproved. ‘They were relatively well-behaved.’

‘We’ll always have them,’ Amanda added, sweeping Liora’s hair back before releasing her to Spock.

Her smile was wide and genuine, her eyes bright, and Jim marvelled at the difference a matter of hours could make. Though she’d always been kind and doted on Spock, he could see quite clearly how happy reuniting with her husband had made her. Jim could hardly think of parting from Spock for a few days, let alone three years.

‘And we’re grateful for that,’ Jim replied, fidgeting with a fraying hem on Theo’s pants. ‘We’ve – uh, we’ve got another meeting for the kids now.’

‘Your brother,’ Amanda said softly, nodding. She reached out to squeeze his arm gently. ‘It’ll be fine, sweetheart, don’t worry.’

It was at times like this that he missed his own mother, though Amanda was a fine substitute. He forced a grimacing smile, feeling Spock’s eyes upon him as he thanked her.

‘I hope so.’

They said their goodbyes, and Spock led the way from the room, Jim following behind with his heart in his throat. As they left, Liora turned from where she was holding hands with Spock to look at him.

‘Who are we meeting _now,_ Daddy?’ she asked, sounding rather exasperated.

‘We’re meeting my brother, sweetie,’ Jim replied, letting Theo down with a silent warning to stay close. ‘His name is Sam.’

‘How come we didn’t have Sa-mekh-al and Sam before?’

‘We have been trapped on Terra, little one,’ Spock explained, gently prodding at Jim through the bond. ‘And they have been prevented from entering the Terran atmosphere.’

She contemplated this silently, and Jim felt the gentle prodding become a soothing caress as Spock found the source of his anxiety.

_Do not fret, beloved. As you said to me this morning, all will be well._

Jim knew he was a hypocrite, but he couldn’t stop nerves from twisting his stomach any more than he could stop the sun from shining. It was a strange dissonance, wanting at once to see Sam, and to hide away in their quarters with his family, but Jim knew he couldn’t have both. He also knew that he’d regret trying to avoid Sam if he didn’t go – and he certainly didn’t want any more regrets.

_You’re right; of course, you’re right,_ he murmured, swinging Theo’s arm as they held hands. _But I can’t help feeling nervous._

_Let me help,_ Spock said softly, and at Jim’s silent acquiescence, he blunted the sharp edges of Jim’s anxiousness with a soothing wave of warmth.

_Thanks, t'hy'la,_ Jim smiled, rather more genuinely now. _I’d like to go in alone at first, if that’s all right with you._

_Of course._

Another hour, another anteroom to stand nervously before, but this was the first time that he was the target. Once they were in the waiting room, Jim let go of Theo’s hand and allowed Spock to gather both children close, explaining that Jim would only be next door should they need him.

‘S’okay, babies,’ Jim cooed, though his voice cracked with the strain of his worry. ‘Daddy’s just going to see Uncle Sam for a minute.’

He squeezed a little hand as Theo reached out to him, then turned to the green-lit door, anticipation shallowing his breath.

_Whatever the outcome, I am here, adun._

Jim turned his head to give him a tremulous smile, unable to speak. Dark eyes met his tenderly, and he turned back with renewed confidence, stepping through before nerves could overtake him again.

The sight of Sam was even more jarring than he had anticipated. When Sam looked away from the red-headed woman that could only be Aurelan, Jim found himself staring as his eyes met those which were the same unnatural blue as their father’s. As his own. Sam was a little taller than he was, a little less muscular, and despite nearly two decades of being apart, Jim recognised him immediately.

‘Sam?’ he whispered. His voice sounded like that of a boy, even to his own ears. ‘Sammy?’

‘Jimmy,’ Sam choked, and within seconds, Jim found himself wrapped up in a bone-crushing embrace, his hands clutching tightly at Sam’s worn t-shirt in an effort to keep him there. He buried his face in the crook of Sam’s neck as his eyes burned with the effort of holding in his tears, but when Sam’s hand carded through his hair like his mother’s once had, Jim couldn’t hold them in anymore.

‘Hey, shhh,’ Sam murmured, as hot tears leaked onto his shoulder. ‘It’s going to be all right, Jim.’

Jim drew in a ragged breath, his arms tightening around him desperately. He hadn’t known quite how much he’d missed him until now; before, Sam had been an almost intangible thing, years of separation having drawn away the strength of emotion that he had first felt when he’d left. Now, however, he felt very real, and the ache of abandonment filled Jim anew.

‘You left me,’ he said mournfully, sniffling into the wet patch he’d left. ‘You left me with _him.’_

Sam squeezed him tight, nodding against him.

‘I know, Jim, and I’m sorry. I’d had enough. You were always so quiet; you did what you were told, and I hoped that he’d leave you alone.’

Drawing back just enough to see his face, Sam looked at him in shame.

‘I’m so sorry, Jim. I-I know about a lot of what happened after I left. I know how you suffered, and I wish I’d have been there to help you out, but I was long gone by that point. I’m not sorry for escaping Frank and Mom, but I’ll always be sorry for leaving you alone.’

The sincere apology was more than Jim had been hoping before. He could never forget, but he could try to forgive, and although a few more tears dribbled down his cheeks, something felt like it had lightened in him. Sam folded him in his arms as the tears dried, and Jim buried his face back in his shoulder, until a tiny, burbling cry jolted him from his position. Sam let him go with a soft smile, and Jim’s eyes found the source of the sound, cradled in Aurelan’s arms.

‘Is- is that..?’

Aurelan smiled crookedly, her lovely, unfamiliar face glowing with happiness.

‘Our son,’ she said quietly, shifting the precious bundle in her arms so that Jim could see a little of his face. ‘Our Peter.’

Jim let out a soft, tearful laugh, glancing at Sam, who was beaming proudly.

‘Can I hold him?’

‘Of course,’ Aurelan smiled, stepping forward to transfer him into Jim’s arms.

Jim received him gratefully, beginning a gentle rocking motion as he stared down into sleepy blue eyes with a rush of love akin to that he felt with his own children. Swaddled in blankets, Peter reached up to take hold of his finger, and Jim let him with an indulgent smile, brushing his lips against his forehead. The weight of the baby in his arms sparked an unexpected longing for this again: for the feeling of a tiny, warm body against his own, for first words, and first smiles, and even three a.m. feeds. The want of another was hardly unfamiliar, but holding a newborn again only intensified it, even if he knew that it was unlikely to happen.

‘How old is he?’

‘Two weeks,’ Sam whispered, stroking the back of his finger over Peter’s cheek. ‘He wasn’t due for another three, but Aurie went into labour early.’

Jim nodded, smiling as Peter yawned, little mouth opening wide.

‘He reminds me of my own,’ he remarked softly, hearing Sam’s sharp inhale with a touch of amusement.

‘You have a son?’

‘Mhm.’ The corners of Jim’s lips curled gently upwards, his gaze meeting Sam’s, whose own eyes were filled with shock. ‘A daughter, too. And a husband, in fact. They’re waiting outside.’

_‘A husband? Kids?’_ Sam mouthed incredulously, blowing out a long breath. ‘Damn, you work fast, kiddo. I’d like to meet them, if you’re willing.’

‘Of course.’

Pressing a final, soft kiss to Peter’s forehead, Jim handed him back to his father, silently asking Spock to bring the children in. After a few beats of inaction, Sam frowned.

‘Aren’t you going to get them?’

‘My husband knows,’ Jim said nonchalantly, grinning at Sam’s bewildered expression at the hiss of the door release. He turned to greet his family, holding out his arms for Theo as he raced towards him, and lifted him into them with an exaggerated grunt of exertion. ‘Hey, Teddy Bear!’

While Theo attached himself to Jim like a limpet, Liora hung back, clinging to Spock as they slowly approached. Her gaze was wary, and Spock’s non-committal, though Jim could tell quite clearly from the bond that he was experiencing some degree of trepidation. Ashamed, he realised that he hadn’t considered that Spock and the kids might have worried about not being accepted by Sam; he’d been selfish in that regard.

‘Sam,’ he began, holding out two fingers for Spock to kiss. ‘This is my husband, Spock. And _these_ two are Liora and Theodore.’

Sam _stared,_ for long enough that Jim’s jaw began to tick, but then his eyes softened, and Jim watched in relief as a smile spread across his face.

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ he said warmly, though he still seemed a little shell-shocked. His hand formed a clumsy ta’al, and his gaze flicked from Spock to the children as if he couldn’t decide who to concentrate on first. ‘How did you end up with a family in _that_ kind of environment?’

Jim felt a flood of warmth, and he wasn’t sure if it came from himself or from Spock. Exchanging a soft, joyful look with his husband, he leant into that strong, steady body, and wondered where to begin.

‘It’s a long story, Sammy.’

Sam reached out to Liora, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement as she hid her face in Spock’s trousers.

‘I’ve got time.’

The next evening, after dinner with both sides of the family – which had been a little awkward, Jim had to admit – he and Spock unexpectedly found themselves with another baby. Though they were meant to be meeting with the Council relatively soon, Aurelan and Sam had been summoned before them first; for what reason, Jim didn’t know. So, Peter was theirs for the hour, and Jim was delighted. The baby was lying in Spock’s arms, those electric blue eyes hidden as he slept peacefully, little fingers twitching against his blanket. The kids were fascinated by him, and although they knew they weren’t to wake him, Liora especially was keen on running her finger over his chubby fists, her eyes wide and adoring. Currently, Theo was having a nap, and Liora was absorbed in her interactive learning holo, so only Jim and Spock were paying him any attention.

‘He’s adorable, isn’t he?’ Jim whispered, his tilted head resting on Spock’s shoulder.

Spock nodded, shifting the bundle as Peter whimpered.

‘He reminds me of Theodore as an infant.’

‘Yeah,’ Jim murmured, turning his head to kiss beneath Spock’s jaw, a slow smile spreading across his face as he felt a shiver. ‘Happy as I am with you and the two we have, it’d be nice to have another.’

Spock was quiet for a moment, but Jim could feel that he didn’t hate the idea, at least – considering the flush of affection through the bond.

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I agree, although by what means, I am not sure.’

Jim’s lazy smile only grew at the thought of another little one, especially now that they were safe and free. He tucked the blanket closer around Peter, stroking the pad of his finger over his cheek, and gently squeezed Spock’s bicep.

‘Well, there’s always carrier tech, but then again, I think there will be quite a few human orphans once the planet has been swept. It’s something to think about.’

Again, Spock nodded, pressing a soft kiss against his crown.

‘That it is, ashayam.’

After their arrival on the Starbase, the crew had all been offered communicators, and when Sam’s voice interrupted their quiet moment, Jim started.

_‘Jimmy?’_

Raising the communicator to his lips, he replied, ‘Hey, Sam, what’s up?’

_‘Do you mind coming to the meeting early? Amanda’s on her way to look after the kids.’_

‘Yeah, sure,’ Jim agreed, confused by the rush. ‘What’s going on?’

_‘Nothing bad, just a proposition. See you in five?’_

‘Sure.’

When the communicator went dead, Jim turned to Spock, who exchanged a quizzical look with him. Before Jim could speculate, however, there was a knock on the door, and when Spock got up to open it, Amanda was already there. There was colour high in her cheeks, the kind Jim got when he’d been crying for a while, but she smiled nonetheless.

‘Mother, are you well?’ Spock asked, clearly alarmed, but she waved away their concerns.

‘I’m fine, boys, don’t worry. And all the better for seeing these little dumplings!’

She clasped Liora to her as their little girl came running, and cradled the sleeping baby in her free arm. When the children realised they were leaving, Jim suddenly found himself with a child attached to each leg, though Theo was clutching at the fabric of Spock’s trousers as well.

‘Where you goin’?’ he asked, lip trembling.

‘We’re seeing your Uncle Sam for a bit,’ Jim explained, carding a hand through his hair. ‘So Nana’s going to look after you. We won’t be long, baby.’

Theo nodded, though he didn’t seem happy about it, and Jim couldn’t resist bending down to kiss them both on the forehead.

‘Behave for nana,’ Spock told them, clasping each briefly to him as they left for the meeting, sharing his uncertainty with Jim. ‘I am unsure as to what Sam’s offer might be, but I am concerned that it has somehow upset my mother.’

Jim silently agreed, noticing with a creeping sense of dread how Spock had begun to speed up.

‘He wouldn’t have meant to upset her, but I think you’re probably right. Still, an offer from Sam… I don’t know how that could be bad.’

Spock soothed him with a gentle caress against his fingers, then stood back to allow him to enter the meeting room first.

_I am with you, ashaya._

_I know, honey, and I’m glad._

Inside, Sam and Aurelan were talking to a selection of Council members; those who had attempted blackmail were conspicuously absent, as were a number of other delegates. When Jim and Spock entered, the room went silent, and the Andorian Avissis, who was acting as temporary leader, stood to greet them.

‘Captain, Commander, if you would like to take a seat…’

‘We prefer to stand,’ Jim said coldly, watching Spock stiffen out of the corner of his eye.

Avissis may have been one of the more competent members of the Council, but Jim could not forget that she contributed to the decision to quarantine Terra, whichever way she had voted.

‘Very well,’ she sighed, her antennae twitching. ‘I’ll cut to the chase, Kirk. Starfleet as an entity does not really exist anymore. There are a number of surviving ships, but with the Academy all but obliterated. As such, while certain ships have been reassigned to other planetary forces, there is simply not the funding to support the running of the Enterprise.’

**_What?_ **

The cold fury that overtook Jim was beyond consuming, as vicious as the hatred that he had felt when their group had been attacked in the night. Spock was angry too – he could feel it – but Jim was blind with it, and he found himself baring his teeth in his rage, shaking as he barely repressed the urge to go at these useless bastards with his fists flying.

‘Are you really gonna try and take the ship from us after all you’ve done?’ he hissed, jaw painfully clenched. ‘Or rather, all you’ve _not_ done?’

He saw a few council members lean back in the face of his fury, but he didn’t care if he had scared them. His eyes passed from one to another, waiting for a reply, but it was Sam who stepped forward to speak to him.

‘They might have tried, but there’s another option. I assume you’ve heard of Lady T’Pau.’

He was talking to Jim – who had, of course – but Spock answered.

‘Lady T’Pau is my great-grandmother, so, naturally.’

Sam flushed a little, and Jim raised an eyebrow at his husband’s sass, feeling his anger begin to dissipate.

‘Well, she’ll soon be replacing Stonak on the Council, and she contacted me after it became clear that even after the Terran population had been decimated, nobody could be bothered to pick up the bill for a few ships.’

His voice was heavy with bitterness, much as Jim’s own had been, and Jim loved him all the more for it. A few of the council members squirmed in discomfort, but Jim paid them no mind.

‘The company I work for is a Vulcan subsidiary owned by the S’chn T’gai clan,’ Sam continued, nodding his head at Spock, ‘and it’s branching out. As a interplanetary research station, we’re always in need of samples for testing – geological, floral, etcetera – and with the company expanding, space exploration is an area of interest as well.’

Sam tipped his head as growing excitement brought a tentative smile to Jim’s lips, eyebrows raised in offering.

‘So, what would you say to a five-year mission? In exchange for star-mapping, and sample collection and analysis, the Board are willing to fund the running of the Enterprise, and provide salaries for all adult crewmembers. In terms of the kids… we could always take care of them if you want?’

The thought of being apart from the children made Jim baulk, and provoked a very visceral response in Spock; Sam took one look at their faces and held his hands up.

_‘Whoa,_ okay, it was just an offer, guys.’ His expression softened. ‘I might be pretty new to it, but I know what it feels like to always want to be with your child.’

‘We’d want to keep them with us,’ Jim said quickly, his heart pounding at the very thought of separation. ‘We could still visit you guys on shore leave… would we get shore leave?’

‘The equivalent, yeah,’ Sam shrugged, settling back against the table he stood before. ‘Most of the logistics will have to wait for Lady T’Pau, but the long and short of it is that we’d try and make the mission as similar as possible to what Starfleet would offer.’

His eyes flicked sideways disdainfully, towards the shamefaced Council members.

‘The only difference would be the private funding. So, what do you think?’

To Jim, given that Starfleet was effectively no more, it sounded pretty incredible. He trusted his brother, and given Sarek’s reaction to reuniting with Spock, he couldn’t see their family’s company being any more corrupt than Starfleet had been.

_What do you think, hun?_ he asked Spock – more out of courtesy than anything else, considering the obvious approval he could feel through the bond. _I mean, it’d be something we’d have to talk to the crew about, but it sounds like a pretty good deal to me._

_It certainly does,_ Spock agreed, though his cool expression was evidently making Sam nervous. _As a scientist, it would provide ample opportunity to embark on unique research projects. Furthermore, the ship might be the first Federation contact with new species – which I think would appeal to you._

_Oh yeah. I’ve always wanted to be among the stars, Spock, you know that._

_I do, t’hy’la._

After a warm, shared glance between them, Jim turned back to Sam with a grin.

‘So long as you draw up some decent contracts, we’re in,’ he announced, smacking him companionably on the shoulder. ‘I want a guarantee that my crew and their families have the option to come along, and veto rights on replacement staff. And Chris…’

He trailed off, wondering why on Terra he hadn’t been invited.

‘The Admiral already knows,’ Sam cut in, ‘and he was pretty encouraging. I’m not sure if he personally wants to go though.’

It didn’t particularly surprise Jim; in taking a back seat, Chris had become particularly adept at diplomacy, and Jim had heard rumours of a potential nomination for him to be on the Council.

‘We’ll see. Either way, thank you for the offer, Sam. Lord knows, you’re the only one who’s tried to help.’

He turned hard eyes on the remainder of the Council, sat dumbly across from him. Focusing on each, one by one, he said what he had wanted to say since their arrival on the Starbase,

‘As a human being, I find it difficult to express how completely and utterly you failed my people. It’s been three years of absolute horror, and so many of us have died in the desperate pursuit of survival. Think about your families, about them being wiped out entirely, and then consider how the remnants of my species feel right now. The blood of billions is on your hands.’

He cast his eyes solemnly over the collection of people who had abandoned an entire planet to their fate, and noted with the barest hint of satisfaction the guilt he could see in them. That guilt would not bring back all those they had lost along the way, though, and Jim would not – _could_ not – forgive and forget. He could feel Spock move closer, standing beside him in solidarity as always, and the nausea that had begun to build in him subsided. Turning back to Sam and Aurelan, he allowed his expression to soften, brushing the back of his hand discreetly against Spock’s.

‘We can get to the logistics later, but as far as we’re concerned, it’s a great opportunity,’ he said, deliberately keeping his attention on his brother as he asked, ‘Do you need us for anything else?’

Sam shook his head, shrugging.

‘I’ll come find you afterwards.’

‘Great,’ Jim smiled, deliberately ignoring the Council with his parting words. ‘See you later.’

He swept critical eyes once across the room, and turned sharply on his heel in the silence, knowing that Spock would be right behind. It was only once the door had closed that he allowed his stiff shoulders to relax, and his fingers to touch gently to Spock’s, a thrill of euphoria taking physical form in a shiver.

‘Thank God for Sam and your grandma, eh?’

He felt an echo of answering joy as Spock’s eyebrow rose, his warm eyes the only visible indicator of his good humour.

‘I did not think that T’Pau would be so willing to help,’ Spock admitted, stroking his fingers softly over Jim’s. ‘I am grateful, nonetheless.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ Jim smiled, leading him back towards their temporary quarters. ‘Just think of it, Spock. We’ll be out there amongst the stars soon.’

Spock’s half of the bond brushed against his in a gentle, shiver-inducing caress, blinding happiness contained therein.

‘As it should be, t’hy’la.’

The children greeted them enthusiastically, as did Amanda, whose face was now free of all traces of tears. Once they had attempted to explain to their excitable children about the mission they might soon be embarking on, she stood before them with a bittersweet smile, and Spock allowed her to cup his cheek when she reached out to him.

‘My adventurous boy,’ she said softly, her eyes welling once more. ‘You’ve always set your gaze on the skies. You’d better visit me and your father – both of you.’

She drew her other hand over Jim’s arm, clasping at his wrist, and Jim felt his chest squeeze. She’d been mother to him for three years, and though he knew space travel wasn’t for her, he still ached at the thought of being apart from her.

‘Of course we will,’ Spock assured her, and Jim nodded in agreement, not trusting his voice to remain steady.

Her hands fell away, and she beamed, blinking rapidly.

‘You’d better. The little ones won’t be little ones for long. But I’ve time with you yet.’

Pulling Liora into a hug, she reached out to thread her fingers through Theo’s hair, drawing away from both with a sigh.

‘Nana has to go now, but I’ll see you soon.’

‘Aww!’ Liora sulked, she and Theo talking over one another in their efforts to say goodbye.

Jim watched them with a fond smile, laying his head on Spock’s shoulder. He loved them so much, but the rate at which they were growing scared him.

_I feel the same, though I know it is natural._

Spock’s words were almost wistful, and while the children were occupied with Amanda, Jim turned his head to kiss the hinge of his jaw.

_They’re young yet,_ he sighed, hugging Amanda as she left. _And we’ll have another baby or two in time._

Spock hummed in approval, and once Amanda had left, they each took a child into their arms, resuming their normal routine. While Peter slept on, their little ones went through bath, book and bed, and Jim sat in their room while they dozed off. Liora – well-behaved as ever – was asleep in minutes, her unruly hair hanging over the edge of the bed as she sprawled out upon it. Jim smiled fondly, sweeping it back onto her pillow, and pulled the duvet up to cover her a little more. Theo had taken longer to settle, but he was peaceful now, snuffling like his Sa-mekh did when his nose was plugged. Jim freed him with a soft snort, and pressed a kiss to his brow, turning when he heard a grizzling noise from the other room. Padding back through, he was just in time to see Spock lift the baby into his arms, shushing him gently. Jim’s chest swelled with love as Spock cradled Peter to him, lips brushing against his brow, and he remembered wistfully how Spock had done the same with theirs.

‘You’re such a good daddy,’ he whispered, coming over to rest his head against Spock’s shoulder.

‘As are you, beloved,’ Spock murmured, stroking the back of his finger of Peter’s cheek as the baby whimpered. ‘Shhh, Peter, it is all right.’

A sound of discontentment bubbled from Peter’s lips, his little body beginning to twist in frustration, but before he could begin wailing, there was a knock on the door. Sam’s entrance didn’t stop Peter from crying, but he certainly quieted slightly once Spock laid him in his father’s arms.

‘Thanks for looking after him, guys,’ Sam said quietly, rocking Peter slowly. ‘I hope he hasn’t disturbed the kids too much.’

‘Not at all,’ Jim smiled, smoothing down the baby’s fluffy hair. ‘Though I think he might be ready for some milk.’

Sam nodded absently, kissing his son’s crown.

‘I think you might be right. I’ll see you both tomorrow morning, and we can start working out the logistics of this thing, yeah?’

‘Sure. See you later, Sammy.’

Much as he loved Sam and the kids, it was somewhat of a relief when his brother left, and he and Spock were alone for the first time that day. Jim didn’t waste time; as soon as the door closed behind Sam, he looped his arms around Spock’s neck, and pulled him down into a tender kiss, sliding his tongue gently over the seam of his lips. Spock yielded to him with enthusiasm, opening his mouth to allow his tongue in, and sucking softly on it. He drew Jim into strong arms, and kissed him back with such passion that Jim whimpered into his mouth, helpless beneath the onslaught of lips and teeth and tongue. He was half-hard already, rolling his hips shamelessly into his husband’s, yet while the friction was amazing, at some point, he needed to breathe. Tearing his lips away to gasp in some air, Jim curled his trembling body into Spock, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Spock held him tightly, his breath unsteady as he traced over Jim’s scar with his thumb.

_T’nash-veh,_ he growled, panting into his ear. _Adun, taluhk nash-veh k’dular._

_Love you too, sweetheart,_ Jim breathed, clutching at the back of his shirt. _It scares me sometimes how much I love you._

The hand which was already cradling his face lifted his chin, and Spock kissed him sweetly, soft lips pressing gently against his own. When they parted, he touched his forehead to Jim’s, eyes closed in a picture of contentment, and Jim mirrored him, hands curling around his biceps. Emotion welled in him as he considered how much his life had changed in three short years, and how much he had gained when so many others had suffered such loss. Family was something that Jim had never really had, and yet here he was – married, a father, and with a crew that felt like an extension of his blood. After all he’d suffered, it seemed that life was finally beginning to show him some mercy.

Leaning up, Jim blindly found Spock’s mouth once more, arms curling possessively around him. He kissed him with all the love he could express, revelling in the passionate return, and the thick erection which was being slowly ground against his own. A low moan bubbled from his lips, the sound muffled by the soft series of kisses they shared, long and slow and tender.

‘I want you,’ he sighed, when he got a second to breathe. ‘Want you now.’

That tiny half-smile, the one Jim had fallen in love with the first time he had seen it, reappeared on Spock’s face. It was difficult not to kiss it right off him.

‘We have time, beloved.’

‘Mmm,’ Jim said throatily, high on Spock and the prospect of their shared future. ‘Forever and a day.’

Spock’s eyebrow raised, and Jim grinned accordingly, pressing upturned lips against his soft, open mouth. They moved together with familiar ease, and pleasure began to curl low in Jim’s belly, warm and bright. Withdrawing slowly, he stroked one hand down Spock’s chest, using the other to lace with his fingers, and squeeze. The choked gasp that ensued sent a spark of heat through Jim, and he began to pull Spock towards their bed, ghosting a teasing kiss over his lips, and watching his eyes darken with desire.

‘Still,’ he murmured, his breath hitching as Spock began mouthing at his neck, ‘there’s no time like the present.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe I've finished this fic. I remember having the bare bones of it scribbled down in a notebook, all my plot points vaguely sketched out, and I still have the paper copy of the timeline I created to keep up with the development of the children. 448 pages on Word later, we're done, and so much has changed in the story and in my life since I began it. I really, sincerely hope you guys have enjoyed ATLL, and that you continue to read my works if you did. My plans for the near future are to post an Alfie/Bones oneshot that follows directly on from their reunion scene, and then to write a TOS oneshot for K/S day in September. After that, I want to take a month or two to myself before I begin posting a new K/S AOS fic - which I already have vaguely planned out - but I like writing too much to stay away for long. That next long AOS fic doesn't have a title yet, but I'll give you a snippet:
> 
> 'The observation deck was Jim’s favourite place on the Enterprise. 
> 
> He liked to press himself against the glass, hands braced as if he could melt right through it, and look out at the millions of tiny pinpricks of light that held the potential for life. Jim loved the stars. He had since he was a child in the most desperate of situations, head tilted towards the sky that held more possibilities than his young mind could imagine. The stars reminded him of how lucky he was to be the youngest Starship Captain ever, to be respected and cared for in a way that he had never before experienced. Jim loved the stars. He loved Spock too. But Spock was as the stars were to him as a child; beautiful, awe-inspiring, and completely untouchable.'
> 
> I hope you guys think it'll be worth a look! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented on ATLL. You brighten my life, genuinely. If you have any questions or comments about my fics, or just want a chat about star trek, feel free to come to my [tumblr](http://pastmydancingdays.tumblr.com/), and expect the A/B oneshot up in two weeks or so!


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